


From The Bottom Up.

by LittleMewLugia (Lugianna)



Series: Code of Cybertron [2]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-04 13:38:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lugianna/pseuds/LittleMewLugia
Summary: Starscream now owes Sam a life-debt he must repay. However, the way he sorts out some logistical issues leaves Sam with even greater problems. Sequel to "Code of Honour."





	1. Prologue: F-22 on the lawn.

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up immediately after the epilogue Of “Code Of Honour.”
> 
> Thanks must be given to those I bounced ideas for this story off before I wrote this.  These people are Cazcatharsis (from LiveJournal community tf2007fun), plus Soaringphoenix, Novamyth, Skyhighfan, and Murder Junkie (all from FanfictionDOTnet.) I have looked at the ideas, and believe I will be using at least one idea from each of the people I asked in this story. Thanks again!
> 
> As always, thanks to my beta, MeowthTwo (Livejournal)/Anne Clothier (FanfictionDOTnet)for also allowing me to bounce ideas off and, of course, beta reading all my stories.

From The Bottom Up.

Summary: Starscream now owes Sam a life-debt he must repay. However, the way he sorts out some logistical issues leaves Sam with even greater problems. Sequel to "Code of Honour."

Rating: M for language and threatened violence, and mild torture in Chs 5 and 6.

Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro and Dreamworks/Paramount, it is not and never will be mine.

 

 

From The Bottom Up.

Prologue: F-22 on the lawn.

 

Sam awoke to find himself cradled in Starscream's big hand, and he could hear shouting, a lot of shouting. It was not a place he relished being, but seeing as Starscream had removed his hand, with Sam still in it, from Sam's bedroom, and was holding his hand out behind him, Sam could not merely step back into his room. In fact, when Sam realised _how_ far off the ground he was, he grabbed on to the finger most conveniently close to his hands, and hung on for dear life.

Starscream barely noticed: his attention was on Sam's bedroom window, or more precisely the two forms framed by it. Sam groaned inwardly. He wondered what the neighbours were thinking of his parents having a shouting match with a thirty-foot robot at seven-thirty on a Sunday morning. If he was lucky, the neighbours would think they had had too much to drink the night before, or decide that they should never have had cheese for supper.

Ron and Judy were shouting at Starscream.

 

"Put my son down, and get the Hell off my flowers, or else!" screamed Judy, brandishing the baseball bat she had bought to replace that which the S-7 agents had taken.

"Put Sam down, and get off my lawn!" yelled Ron. Starscream tried to explain his situation, but Sam's parents were not in a listening mood. Sam saw Starscream frown, and his other arm - the one with the gun on it - twitched.

"No, please, nononono!" begged Sam. "They don't understand! Don’t shoot them!"

 

Starscream seemed to notice that Sam was awake for the first time, and turned his fearsome head and glowing red optics Sam's way.

"Those fleshy insects are shouting at me and threatening me. They are not a serious threat to me, but they _are_ annoying. Why should I not eliminate them?" Starscream said.

"They're my parents! They've got a temper and you've destroyed the flowers and the lawn and they see you as a threat to me! Please! They're like any parent – um – parental unit protecting their –um – sparkling," Sam said, remembering some phrasing he'd once heard Bumblebee use.

 

Bumblebee, obviously having decided that the neighbours could cope with seeing one more giant robot if they were watching all this, had, by now, transformed.

"Starscream, you are permitted to appoint a proxy for a short time if logistical problems arise, the Code does allow for that," Bumblebee said. "If you don't leave soon, one of the people in the nearby houses is going to call the law, or worse, the Military, and if they attack you here, you will be putting someone who you are sworn to protect in danger, contrary to what you promised when you swore by the Code." Sam saw Bumblebee's optics dim as he databurst something to Starscream. Starscream's head jerked down in a nod, and his own optics dimmed for second. He carefully stooped and placed Sam on his feet on the ground, which was now looking not so much like a lush green lawn as like a freshly-ploughed crop field.

"Your Autobot companion is correct. Another solution must be found, and I shall devote time to thinking of a suitable one. My proxy is on his way. Back off, my engines can burn very hot, and it would not do good for my propulsion units to incinerate you."

 

Sam backed off with Bumblebee to a good twenty feet away, and Starscream considerately stepped away from the house before executing a graceful take-off, transforming mid-air from robot to jet, and screamed off, disappearing into the sky, leaving what little vegetation that had been left in the garden as shrivelled black stems, some continuing to burn for a few seconds after Starscream's departure. Bumblebee carefully converted back into car form, and took his usual position on Ron's drive.

"My flowers!" yelled Judy, shaking her fist at the direction Starscream had flown off in. "I just planted those new ones after those Government freaks pulled up all the other ones!"

 

At that moment, Starscream's proxy arrived. Sam had been worried about what sort of Decepticon Starscream would send as a proxy, but as the familiar black-and-white Saleen purred up the drive and pulled over onto the blackened dirt, Sam sighed in relief. He knew where he stood with Barricade, and when he had last seen him, they had parted as friends, of a sort.

"Oh, look, it's that nice Officer Cade," Judy said as the holoform stepped out and walked over to them.

"Mr and Mrs Witwicky, we think we've apprehended all those involved with the incident your son heard about, but until we are certain that we've got all of them, I will be required to keep an eye on your son for some more time. However, we expect to have the problem sorted in no more than fourteen days and we hope it will be dealt with in less time than that."

"What about that monster robot?" asked Judy. "It threatened my son and ruined our garden!"

 

"Mrs Witwicky, I am sure that you will understand that this matter is part of the National Security incident you and your son were involved in earlier. My direct superior is personally investigating this incident, and I assure you, the situation is being watched, all possible angles are being considered, and the finest minds in this country are working on this problem as we speak."

Once again, Sam was impressed with how Barricade could tell the truth without revealing a thing. Ron and Judy's faces showed that they had been convinced enough to let the matter drop. They watched as Barricade's holoform reached into his alt-mode, popped open the glove compartment, and pulled out a very thick billfold. He approached, counting off several notes of a low-enough denomination to be not too unusual, but high enough to make the amount he was now holding out and offering to Ron a sizeable sum.

 

"As to your garden, I believe I promised you reimbursement from the Government, that should cover new seed or turf for your lawn, Mr Witwicky, plus any more needed statuary or ornamentation." He peeled off a similar sizeable sum, and pushed this into Judy's hands. "That should cover more decorative plants to your liking,” he said. Judy's hands, clutching the notes, were shaking as she stared at them, as Ron said "Several times over, Officer,” in a stunned tone of voice.

"Of course, that money also covers the disturbance caused by my presence here and the inconvenience of today's incident, after all, loyalty should be rewarded, don't you think?" Barricade asked. Sam's parents agreed, thanked Barricade, promised not to mention this morning outside of the family, and retreated indoors to count the money Barricade had given them.

 

"Where did you get that from?" Sam whispered to Barricade.

"Oh, I regularly find cash dispensers and use my hacking skills - which are not as good as Frenzy's were, but serve to get through the primitive defences your banks use – to obtain money in case I am away from the police pound and have to get fuel, or in case I need to bribe humans, or indeed keep them quiet and happy so I can do my job, as I have done by giving your parents several thousand of your American dollars each. They will know it is what you humans call 'hush money,’ but they also believe their Government is trusting them to be loyal to their country, and both those factors will give them peace of mind and they will, in all likelihood, happily not speak of today to anyone else."

Sam nodded: he knew the human mindset, and particularly knew his parents. He decided not to point out that it was stealing, for he knew that Barricade probably knew, and didn't give a rat's ass.

Sam wondered if there was some way that Barricade could permanently be appointed as a proxy in Starscream's stead; after all, Barricade's superior was Starscream, so maybe Starscream could delegate the job to Barricade? After all, Sam knew that there was no way either his parents or the American military would permit Starscream to sit on Ron's lawn (or what was left of it) for one day, let alone how long it might take for Starscream to repay his debt to Sam.

Sam just hoped that Starscream would understand this, and factor this in while working out what he could do to fulfil the obligation he had to discharge in order to keep his word, and thus fulfil the promise he had sworn to keep by the Code of Cybertron.


	2. “An F-22 is a One Person Craft.”

From the Bottom Up.

Chapter Two.

"An F-22 is a One-Person Craft."

 

A few days later, Sam knew more about where he stood on the matter.

 

It had been a major blow to Sam to find that his idea of Barricade standing in as a permanent proxy for Starscream was a no-no; even the two-week time was only to be used when there was little or no other option, and the quicker the proxy-time was over, the better. Neither Bumblebee nor Barricade could recall any time that had lasted the whole of the allotted time.

Part of the problem was that the Code was very specific about the payment of a debt – only the person who owed it could pay it off. Barricade could thus defend Sam in Starscream's absence, but not only did it mean that Starscream would still owe Sam, but Sam would owe _Barricade, and_ be expected to deliver, for allowing somebody under the Code to pay back a debt bound both parties. Even someone who had not taken the Code, who was owed by someone who had, was expected, until that debt was paid, to conduct themselves as if they had themselves made the same promise by the Code. The night Sam had found that out, he had virulently in his head (not wishing to offend Bumblebee and Barricade in the yard) cursed whoever had written _that_ little clause into the rules of the Code.

As had happened when Barricade was waiting to repay his debt to Sam, Barricade took Sam to school and picked him up. Sam assumed that Barricade would keep him informed of Starscream's search for an acceptable compromise. However, it was a week later that Sam found out what Starscream's solution to this issue was, when just after lunchtime on a Friday afternoon, the principal walked into the homeroom, and handed Mr Dyson two sheets of paper before walking back out. 

Mr Dyson read the two sheets, and then turned to face the class, clearing his throat.

 

"Okay everybody, those of you who have cars are to pack and leave now, for those of you travelling by bus, the bus has been called to pick you up early, those travelling by bike should leave when you are ready. School is closing early today due to unforeseen circumstances. That will be all."

Surprised, Sam packed his books up and was about to go over to Mikaela when Mr Dyson put up his hand in a 'stop' gesture.

"No, not you, Mr Witwicky. Could you stay behind? This concerns you," he told Sam. Surprised, Sam sat back down.

' _What now?_ ' wondered Sam, trying to think of what he might have done to end up closing the _school_ for half a day. He shook his head: he was baffled. Mr Dyson, seeing Sam's confused gesture, held up the papers the Principal had given him. Sam could see that they were printouts of E-mails that had the NSA logo on them.

"It seems, Mr Witwicky, that you have made powerful acquaintances, and must have been concealing the true scope of your abilities from us. No less a dignitary than the Secretary of Defence himself needs your opinion on _a matter of National Security._ " 

 

Mr Dyson said the last five words so loud that the rest of the class (who were trying to listen in without being obvious about it) could not fail to miss the emphasis. Even as most took the hint and began to file out of the room, Mr Dyson belatedly said "Class dismissed!" and made shooing motions with his hands. They left, many with low murmurs and shooting glances, many of grudging respect and surprise, at Sam. The students, Mr Dyson noted, for once seemed reluctant to leave: any other day and they would have left before the instruction to dismiss had finished leaving his mouth. Once they had all dispersed, Mr Dyson shut the room door, and turned back to Sam.

"We were informed ten minutes ago to clear the car park of cars within half an hour of receiving the E-mail: this applies to the cars of both students and teachers. It seems that whatever pearls of wisdom you have to offer the Secretary of Defence, he wants them fast. We have been informed that he is sending a military jet to pick you up and take you to his current location, which the email said is classified as top secret. It will need somewhere to land and take off from, and the school parking lot is the only place available. Personally, I think a helicopter would have been more appropriate, but then, I must assume that he must need you there faster than a chopper could transport you." 

Sam nodded, having his own theories about this whole thing. He walked to the school entrance and waited in the doorway.

 

Five minutes later, the parking lot had been cleared: at the side, well out of the way, were the students waiting for the school bus and those who used a bicycle, which included Sam's best bud and honorary brother, Miles. Most were finding any excuse to not move out, wanting to find out what all the fuss was about. A jet engine sounded, quietly at first but then getting louder and louder, the assembled students looking around trying to locate the sound of the noise.

Sam's theories were confirmed as an F-22 Raptor appeared in the sky, dropped its nose, and made a very precise landing in the school parking lot. The waiting students gaped.

 

"Woah, that's a good pilot, what a landing!" said Miles. The canopy lifted and the pilot boosted himself out of the cockpit and slid gracefully down the side of his jet, landing lightly on his feet.

"Samuel Witwicky?" he asked, looking about.

 

"It looks like your transport has arrived, Mr Witwicky," said Mr Dyson, trying (and failing) to look unimpressed.

Sam walked over to the plane. "I'm Sam Witwicky," he called, adding in a low voice "as if you didn't know that." The pilot ignored this last, guiding Sam over to the front end of the jet with a hand and lacing his fingers together to form a stirrup in a clear invitation.

"I'll boost you," he clarified unnecessarily. Sam put his foot in the proffered hands, and stood, balancing himself against the jet's side, and the foot was pushed with such force that Sam had no problem getting into the cockpit. The pilot nodded, and walked around to the other side of the jet. 

A moment later, the canopy lowered over Sam, who couldn't resist giving his friend Miles - who was standing mouth agape and looking almost literally green with envy - a jaunty wave. Then the F-22 delicately backed up, then taxied along the diagonal of the parking lot, before taking off and disappearing rapidly into the distance.

 

Mr Dyson came over.

"Okay everybody, you can go home, the excitement is over. I do hope that the G-force that take-off exerted on Sam wasn't too distressing for Sam, the pilot will be used to it, but Sam will not." He looked at Miles askance. "Unless there is something that your friend Sam is not telling us."

Miles shook his head slowly, not in denial, but because something didn't seem right about this. Then it hit him.

"You know what's really odd about Sam going off in an F-22 Raptor, Sir?" he asked.

"No, Mr Lancaster, please enlighten me," said Mr Dyson sarcastically. Miles ignored or didn’t notice the sarcasm.

"I may not know much, sir, but my Dad's a military aircraft enthusiast. To my knowledge, Sam has only just learned to drive a car, there is no way that he could learn to fly a jet as well," Miles said.

 

"I would imagine, Mr Lancaster, that that is one reason why the jet came with a pilot. _He_ will do the flying,” Mr Dyson said, his voice not losing the sarcasm.

"But there's the problem, Sir, the pilot and Sam are both supposed to be in that thing, but there's not enough room!" Miles said.

"What do you mean, "not enough room?" asked Mr Dyson. Miles looked at him.

"An F-22 is a one person craft," Miles stated.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Sam was alone in the one-person cockpit (which was still, to his mind, cramped) with his hands holding on to his school rucksack. He was certainly not the one flying the plane; the jet took care of that _itself_.

"Okay, Starscream, your holo does a good job of seeming to be human, and your explanation and arrival probably impressed a lot of people, but I doubt that this is what this is all about. As you are sworn to protect me, I decided it was best to play along and go with you and not draw even more attention to you," Sam said. "I take it that you have thought of a suitable solution to our mutual Code issue? After all, there is no way you can repeat this stunt to drop me off at and pick me up at school for however long this takes, you know?" Sam told him.

"Of course I understand that, fleshling. Do you think that I would have survived other planets like yours if I did not?" Starscream asked Sam. "Your 'school' have been informed that the Secretary of Defence requires your services indefinitely, and you will be returned as soon as is possible," Starscream told Sam. "Barricade will be meeting us when we get to where we are headed with some of your outer garments." 

"Hey, what are you talking about?" Sam asked, already working out in his head what this was going to mean for him, and hoping he was wrong. "Barricade will be meeting us, okay, but he'll be meeting us where?" asked Sam.

"For your own safety, do not question me at the base, do what I tell you to and do not argue with me,” Starscream told him. "I am taking a great personal risk by bringing you, but it is the only way I can keep the Code."

"The base? What base?" Sam asked. Starscream made a rude noise of disbelief.

"I was led to believe by Barricade that you were intelligent for a fleshling!" You are coming to our base, the Decepticon base of operations. Now, we're going to land, so remember: do _not_ question or argue about anything I say: to do so may weaken my authority in the eyes of my followers, which could lead to one or more of them challenging me for the Decepticon leadership. Should I be unfortunate enough to lose, then your life expectancy would be very severely curtailed."

 

Sam sweated and nodded; he understood. "O-okay,” hesaid, as Starscream's nose dropped and he came in to a smooth landing on a makeshift dirt runway next to some run-down looking warehouses. "So, I do as you say, agree with you but otherwise keep my mouth shut, right?" he asked.

"Correct," Starscream replied. The canopy opened and Sam stood, and got out of the cockpit, sliding down the side of the jet: only a tractor beam that latched onto him, (presumably activated by Starscream) and catching him, stopped him sprawling in the dirt.

"Stand back," Starscream warned, and began to transform. Sam was distracted from the sight of Starscream's transformation as he spotted two mechs who had come out of one of the warehouse's goods entrance, having heard Starscream coming in to land.

 

The first was about Bumblebee-sized, but was painted red instead of yellow, and only had one creepy, large, top-mounted telescopic optic: like most Decepticon optics, it was red.

The other was bigger, similar in size to Starscream although it was obviously not a flying type. It was mainly blue and purple, with an Optimus-style battle mask concealing its features and a wide red visor which Sam assumed served as optics.

 

He was reminded of Starscream's presence forcefully as the Decepticon leader suddenly picked Sam up in one hand. He strode towards the entrance the two other mechs had exited from, acknowledging their presence with a curt nod. Ducking down to get in, he straightened again, for the warehouse was big enough - but only just - for Starscream to stand upright in.

There were about five or six mechs inside, Sam noticed, but the two most noticeable ones, due to also being tall, were two other flyers with the same alt-form as Starscream, but with a different colour scheme for each one. 

 

One seemed to be almost purple, the other had blue and red patterned wings. They turned to look curiously at Starscream as he came in, and they both noticed him as Starscream held him up to display him.

"So, Lord Starscream, your important mission was to pick up one insignificant fleshling?" the latter flyer asked in a derisive tone.

"Your words confirm your ignorance, Thundercracker," Starscream stated. "This is not just _any_ fleshling, this particular squishy is the one who used the AllSpark against Megatron, destroying them both. This flesh-creature, one of the Autobot's favourites, could prove to be a useful bargaining chip, a handy hostage if need be. Having him here, and them not knowing _where_ he is, will definitely worry and annoy those Autobots who are so fond of him."

Starscream held Sam so he could see the assorted mechs, including the two who had come out earlier who had now come back inside.

"Samuel Witwicky, these are a few of my Decepticons,” he said. Then he held Sam out towards the assorted mechs, so they could all see him. Starscream spoke again.

"Decepticons, meet Sam Witwicky, my new pet."


	3. Leader’s Pet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: competent Starscream.

From The Bottom Up. 

Chapter Two.

Leader's Pet. 

 

 _'Pet?_ ' thought Sam, jerking in Starscream's hand. ' _He said nothing about that to me on the way here!_ ' Thoroughly annoyed, Sam was about to say something of the sort to Starscream - along with a few other choice comments - when he recalled Starscream's warning; if Sam was seen to be arguing with Starscream, and weakening his authority and position, a leadership challenge might ensue, which would not improve his position no matter what the outcome, and could, were Starscream to lose, make things rapidly worse for him.

Starscream and the other Decepticons were all looking at him, Sam realised; his shocked jerk must have been noticed by them all. Starscream turned Sam to face him again. "Pets must learn obedience; I assume you are intelligent enough to understand cause and effect?" Starscream asked him. Sam nodded. "Then understand this; as good behaviour will be rewarded, bad behaviour will bring punishment. Have I made myself clear?"

"Uh-yes sir," Sam answered, a tremor of fear in his voice that was not entirely put on, although Sam was sure that the Code would prevent Starscream from carrying out his threat. Sam thought he could see what Starscream was up to; by making Sam publicly acknowledge his understanding of the situation, he was solidifying his authority in the eyes of his followers.

"Good," Starscream said approvingly, speaking more to the others than to Sam. "It seems that some of these fleshlings are, after all, quick learners."

The small red mech had come forward and it regarded Sam, the single red optic glinting with what Sam was certain was malice. It reached out a hand with sharp-looking digits as if to try and take him from Starscream, and Sam shied away, but he needn't have worried; its reach wasn't great enough.

"Lord Starscream, I've never been given the chance to practice my interrogation techniques on one of these disgusting fleshy things, because you have never allowed me to procure any," it stated coldly. "What do you want or need with a pet, particularly a vile organic one, when I am certain that Soundwave's cassetticon, Ravage would, I am certain, be happy to fill that role if you feel the need for a pet?" It moved closer, scrutinising Sam, the glint in its optic far from reassuring. "Lord Starscream, let me see how much of my techniques this creature can take before it starts talking, then how much it can take before it dies. The knowledge may be useful should the need to interrogate another ever arise. If you really want a squishy as a pet, you can always acquire another, after all this planet is overrun with the revolting things," it said, taking another step forwards.

Sam paled: he wanted that vicious little mech nowhere near him; dying at the mechanical hands of a Decepticon torturer was nowhere on his list of priorities, either now or in the foreseeable future. If Starscream was not able to convince the red mech of Sam's value, he might find Starscream repaying his debt, by fighting the other mech, on that same day.

Starscream pinned the mech in question with a penetrating stare, meeting its gaze with his own and at first didn't say a word. When Starscream gave what Sam assumed was a scowl - it certainly was not a happy look - the other mech broke optic contact. Sam recognised it for what it was; a dominance staring contest, and the smaller mech had lost. Only then did Starscream speak, and then the condescension in his voice was evident.

"Once again, Swindle, you display openly your lack of subtlety - which is the main reason I do not permit you to procure fleshling subjects to satisfy your thirst for interrogation. Your ill thought-out, blunt-force methods would draw too much attention to you - and therefore _us_ \- at a time when we must lie low and wait for reinforcements, fuel, and opportunity." He indicated Sam with the hand not holding him. "Perhaps you missed my earlier explanation, although I am certain that you were in the room at the time, as you show knowledge of him being my pet. However, I shall be patient with you and explain again, so that even your processors, Swindle, can grasp what I am saying."

Starscream took a step to one side, and held Sam up, legs dangling, close enough for Swindle to focus his optic on him, but not so close that Swindle's hands could reach him. "This fleshling is too valuable to us to allow you to use your blunt-instrument approach on him. If he is to be used as a bargaining chip, or a hostage, we need him _alive_ , and he needs to be reasonably well-treated, for a dead hostage is of no use, and a sick one could make the humans and their Autobot allies think that they should rescue him by force rather than bargain for him," Starscream told Swindle. "When I went out to get him, I was careful to cover my tracks sufficiently to get him back here without arousing suspicion and without being detected. His parental units and educational establishment have been given convincing lies to explain his absence. They think the country's Government require his presence for their own secret purposes. It is unlikely his disappearance will be noted or queried for some time yet, and I have my own plans on what to do with my little pet in that time."

Starscream carefully lifted Sam to his left shoulder, putting him down on it, turning his head to watch him: Sam grabbed for a wing-edge to steady himself, and Starscream waited until Sam had a secure handhold before taking his hand from around him. Then he turned back to Swindle. "You and I differ a great deal, Swindle, and just one of those ways is that I possess some subtlety, whereas you possess none. There are times that brute force and pain are not always the best approach to a problem. You, Swindle, stick to doing what you are best at - interrogating our enemies when you are _ordered_ to, and doing as I and those above you say - and leave the _thinking_ to those of us whose processors are better equipped to do so."

"Yes, Lord Starscream," said Swindle, in a surly voice, dropping his optic to look at the floor. However, as Starscream turned his attention back to his two flyers, Sam saw Swindle look back up at him, and pin him with a look of pure, undiluted hatred. Sam had to repress a shudder at the look Swindle was directing at him; he would do well to watch his back around _that_ one. Sam was, to Swindle, an enemy who had witnessed Swindle's humiliation at the sharp tongue of his own leader, and Swindle would likely hate Sam for witnessing his shame.

Starscream addressed the other two fliers. "Look at him. Think of it, I have the slayer of Megatron as my pet, who can live or die at my whim. At the moment he is too valuable to destroy, but if that were to change, think how easy it would be to extinguish his fragile existence. Do not think that I shall allow him to lie idle in his time with us, oh no, I shall find him a useful task, perhaps more than one. He shall do as I say, or he shall be punished. There are plenty of punishments I can devise that will not affect his life expectancy or health."

Starscream turned his head to look at Sam again before continuing. "Yes, he killed Megatron, using the AllSpark, but now I have caught him, and he is helpless to resist me. He is, in fact, dependant on me for his continual well-being and survival. Is that not a great feat, planned and executed by your leader?"

"Most assuredly, Lord Starscream,” replied the purple and black flier. “Perhaps you can teach your new pet tricks. I have heard that these fleshlings teach their pets to roll on their backs and to beg. Maybe we can find out if he can learn the same?" The blue and red flier sniggered.

"Perhaps, Skywarp, but first, I have other things to teach him - more practical and useful tasks that such a small pair of manipulatory appendages as he possesses may be more suited to,” Starscream said.

At that point, Barricade rolled in, threw two full black refuse sacks out of his trunk, and transformed into his bipedal form. He picked up the two refuse sacks, one in each hand. "I have brought the fleshling's extra clothing as you requested, Lord Starscream," Barricade stated. "His parental units have been phoned by me, to inform them that he has been taken to a secret location indefinitely for his own safety, due to an incident I fabricated for them to explain my presence earlier, being bigger and more complex than was at first thought. They have accepted it, and have promised to say that he is on vacation, location unknown, to anyone who asks." At that point, Sam wasn't sure if he was pleased or annoyed that his parents were so easy to dupe.

"Good. Bring the clothing to my room, Barricade, I have matters I need to discuss with you," Starscream commanded. Starscream began walking: Sam sat down, wedging his butt into a stable dip in the Decepticon leader's shoulder for extra security beyond his death grip on Starscream's wing edge. Starscream exited the warehouse, and walked into a nearby one, obviously his private quarters. There was some shelving here left from the warehouse's more prosperous days, and Starscream lifted Sam up onto this. From this vantage point, Sam was eye-to-optic with Starscream.

"Um - some warning about the 'pet' thing would have been appreciated, sir," Sam said. Starscream looked at him.

"Over-compliance and a lack of reaction would have been suspicious, fleshling," Starscream told him. At this point, Sam was beginning to wish that he could ask the same thing of Starscream as he had asked of Barricade - to be called 'human', but of course, in the Decepticon base, this would be unwise for Starscream to do; it looked like Sam would have to put up with being called 'fleshling', 'squishy', and variants thereof. "If you use your clothing as padding and covers, and stay in the middle of that shelf, that should be as safe a location as any to sleep, after all, only Soundwave, Payload with his extendable grab, and my two wing-brothers, Skywarp and Thundercracker, should be able to reach you up there, and I shall warn those four off,” Starscream said.

He turned to Barricade, taking the bags of clothing off him and putting them on Sam's shelf. "Barricade, you have experience of this human. We need to give him a use, a purpose, something to make him less…expendable…in the eyes of the others," Starscream said. "Do you have any suggestions?"

Barricade nodded. "Yes, I do, Lord Starscream," he said. "I can tell you, from personal experience, that those little hands of his make him a natural when it comes to unkinking wires…"


	4. Arrival to Base.

From The Bottom Up.

Chapter Three. 

Arrival to Base.

 

Once Miles had left the school grounds, he took off, pedaling as fast as he dared, heading for Sam's house. As Sam had been arriving and leaving in that Police cruiser every morning for the last two weeks, Bumblebee had not been at the school that day. Somehow, Miles thought Bumblebee might be able to shed some light on the jet incident, because that just didn't add up.

Miles had met Bumblebee about a month after Sam got involved in that Mission City incident that he was not supposed to talk much about; he and Mikaela had taken Miles to the Lookout in Bumblebee, who had then assumed bipedal mode and said "Hello, Miles."

It had scared the bejesus out of him, but once Sam, Mikaela, and Bumblebee himself had managed to calm him down and answer all of his questions, he had just relaxed, smiled a bit goofily, and said "I knew it. Aliens are real, they exist, and now I can be friends with one? Cool!" Of course, he had then been required to sign a non-disclosure agreement, but he really didn’t mind, because being in the know was also really cool.

 

He also knew that Bumblebee was not the only alien robot on Earth, and knew that he had four friends, all concealed as Earthly vehicles, but had never met them. He had also worked out, with the veiled, mysterious advice from Sam regarding caution around Police cars and to tell him about any jets acting suspiciously - like flying in places or at heights that they were not meant to - that they had enemies, and it made sense to assume that if Bumblebee and his friends could take on the appearance of Earthly transport, then so presumably, could their enemies. Which meant that if what Sam was saying was anything to go by, they already knew that a jet and a Police car were two forms the enemies were known to have taken.

Miles had not at first suspected the Police car, because Sam had seemed to be quite happy to go to and from school in it, which Miles assumed would not have been the case had it been an enemy, and it had at first been the same with the jet, for Miles would have thought that Sam would have known his enemies, and not so willingly gone with them. However, he was now wondering if Sam had somehow been duped, coerced, or both. If this was the case, Miles was concerned for Sam's safety.

 

He pulled into the drive, relieved to see the yellow Camaro sitting on the drive, bodywork glinting in the sunlight. Bumblebee beeped his horn quietly and cheerfully in greeting. Miles vaulted off his bike, and threw it to one side, idly wondering who had firebombed the Witwicky garden. He ran over to Bumblebee, crouched by his window.

"Bumblebee, something funny happened at school today. We were all sent home early from school, except for Sam, who, so the school was told, had been asked to attend a meeting with the Secretary of Defense. Thing is, the vehicle that picked him up was an F-22 jet, and-"

Miles got no further.

Bumblebee shot backwards - there was room, as Ron's Porsche was not there - and began transforming, as his horn blared, much louder this time, and his radio bellowed "WHAT?"

Miles clapped his hands over his ears at the noise as Bumblebee's transformation finished, except that then he reconfigured his right arm into a cannon, and his battle mask dropped. Miles had never seen Bumblebee in full battle mode before, and backed off, stumbling backwards down the drive, suddenly frightened of the heavily-armed alien robot facing him, who was supposed to be his friend.

 

Bumblebee obviously realised what a fearsome sight he was from Miles' reaction, for he quickly turned the cannon back into an arm and raised his battle mask.

"Miles, I'm sorry, it was the shock of your news, I mean you no harm. Please, come with me, we need to talk to Mikaela and then to my friends at the Base. Starscream has captured Sam, obviously aided and abetted by Barricade. When I see Barricade again, I will reformat his face plates for him, and turn his Spark into a Christmas tree bauble! Get in, Miles, I'll explain everything on the way."

Bumblebee quickly folded back down into Camaro form, and Miles got in the driver's seat.

On the way to Mikaela's house, Miles got to learn about the basics of the Autobot-Decepticon conflict, what really went on in Mission City, and about what the Code of Cybertron was. Once Mikaela got in, Bumblebee explained about how Starscream had ended up sworn to protect Sam, and then asked Miles to explain what had happened at the school, for Mikaela had set off to walk home from school before Starscream had turned up at the school. Explaining this took the time it took Bumblebee to get from Mikaela's house to the Autobot base.

 

When they got there, (Miles gaped at Ironhide's imposing form in the gate house, while Mikaela just smiled and waved at him) they got out, and Bumblebee transformed back into robot form. He crouched and offered his hands, one each, and they climbed into them. Bumblebee straightened, and headed straight for Optimus' office, using his head to knock on the door.

"Come in, Bumblebee," came Optimus' calm, measured voice, prompting Miles to wonder just how Optimus had known it was Bumblebee, as the door was solid, with no viewing pane, and he had not noticed any CCTV cameras - although, with beings as advanced as Bumblebee and his friends, that didn't mean they weren't there.

Bumblebee used his body to push the door open, as both his hands were full of human, and walked in. Optimus looked up from where he was stood behind his desk, spotted Bumblebee’s human passengers, and lifted some human-sized chairs from a stack nearby onto the desk. He then pulled over his own large wood-and-metal seat, and beckoned Bumblebee forwards. Optimus sank down onto his chair, stretching his long legs out beneath the desk.

Bumblebee placed his human burdens gently on the marble desk, by the seating, and then pulled over a chair that when he was sat on it, put him close to face-to-face level with Optimus and the humans – for Optimus' seat was low compared to the desk, and the humans could look directly at Optimus' face without craning their necks to do so.

Miles and Mikaela sat down in the comfortable chairs.

 

"Welcome, Mikaela, as always, and welcome, Miles Lancaster, as a first-time visitor to our Base. My name is Optimus Prime. We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron, but as I told Sam and Mikaela when I first met them, you may call us 'Autobots.' I am the designated Autobot leader."

Miles was gazing intently at Optimus as he spoke, with much awe but no fear. Mikaela smiled, remembering her first encounter with the noble Autobot commander. She, too, had not feared him, for Optimus had a manner about him that almost screamed 'trustworthy'.

"Do you need to sit down just as we do to rest your legs?" asked a round-eyed Miles, clearly fascinated. Optimus smiled gently at him.

 

"Ratchet would say that anything that saves wear and tear on the joints is worthwhile, but we do not suffer muscle fatigue as you do, so no, we do not need to sit for comfort, in fact when thinking, I find it beneficial to be on the move," he said. He indicated the chairs that Miles and Mikaela sat on.

"In my experience with working with humans, however, I have found that they prefer to be seated for meetings, and they prefer that I be seated as they are. It is also reassuring for them to be essentially on the same level as them, so I do not loom over them, hence how low this chair is to the ground," Optimus explained. "It is no trouble to me, and it seems humans prefer it. Ratchet tells me that, from his research on the World Wide Web, that my size would otherwise give me what you humans might term a 'psychological advantage', subconsciously making them feel intimidated, or that I am trying to be superior or dominant over them. That does not make for cordial relations, thus my low chair."

Optimus, having explained to Miles about the seating, and Miles having nodded his understanding, switched his attention to Bumblebee.

 

"Autobot scout Bumblebee, you sent me a databurst giving me the basics. You stated that Miles Lancaster told you something to make you believe that Starscream, the leader of the Autobots' opposite numbers, the Decepticons, has taken Sam away, location unknown." Miles didn’t miss the embedded explanations of who had taken Sam and led the other faction, and what the faction names were, that were obviously included for his benefit and understanding, and he was grateful for the courtesy.

"Yes Sir," Bumblebee replied sounding subdued. "Sir, I am sorry – I was meant to protect him, it is the task you assigned to me, and I let you, and him, down."

 

Optimus shook his head.

"No, Bumblebee, you have kept me updated on the situation involving Sam, Barricade, Starscream, and the code of Cybertron. Had you been at the school today, it is unlikely that the outcome would have changed, except possibly to end up with you and some other humans possibly getting hurt. It is highly unlikely that Starscream will hurt Sam, he could easily have done that a week ago when he turned up unannounced at the Witwicky residence and plucked Sam from his bedroom when he offlined, or as humans put it 'lost consciousness.' No, it is unlikely that Sam will come to any harm from this, although finding out where they have taken him must now be a top priority."

 

Optimus turned his gaze back to Miles.

"Miles Lancaster, it would aid us greatly if you could tell us, in as much detail as you can remember, including how Sam seemed at the time, what happened at Sam's school, from the moment that the school routine was altered, to the moment that the jet disappeared from your sight."

"Uh – yes sir, and it's just Miles," Miles said. He then launched into a very detailed description of the incident, starting with Sam's arrival in the police car ("Which he had been doing for the last two weeks, so I thought nothing of it.") including his conversation with Mr Dyson and ending with seeing Starscream heading off, and using landmarks to work out which direction he had been heading in. "Although the jet could have changed direction once we couldn't see it any more," Miles said. "Anyway, it seemed so odd, I got on my bike to speak to Bumblebee, it seemed to be something he should know. And – well -, the rest you know, Sir,” he finished awkwardly.

 

"Thank you, Miles, that information will be most helpful," Optimus told him. There was, at that moment, a small knock at the door. Optimus rose, and walked over to open the door, admitting a small (that is, a bit bigger than Miles, but smaller than Bumblebee) green mech, whom Optimus carefully picked up and placed on the table near the two humans. To Miles' surprise, the mech offered he and Mikaela an arm filled with cans of Mountain Dew.

"Dewbot!" cried Mikaela in welcome, stroking the mech's extended arm. "Thank you!" she said, taking two cans of Dew for herself and handing two more to Miles, as Optimus went and poured Bumblebee and himself a mug each of something glowy from a dispenser on the wall. As Optimus walked back around and sat, the green mech walked over and dropped onto Optimus' lap, where it immediately folded up and powered down. Optimus looked with another of his gentle smiles down at the inert mech.

"Dewbot is young, and still finding his way in a strange world. He takes comfort in coming to me every so often for a rest,” he explained, one hand resting gently cupped around Dewbot's body.

At that moment, a Bumblebee-sized red mech, and a blue-and-white one twice the height but very slender, came into the room after knocking.

 

"Miles, these two are scouts like Bumblebee." He indicated the red mech first, and then the blue and white one. "Cliffjumper and Mirage, and this" – here he indicated Miles – is Miles Lancaster. Mikaela you know already." The two nodded in their direction politely, and Mirage smiled at him, but neither spoke. Optimus turned his attention back to them.

 

"We must conclude that Starscream has taken Sam, for an indefinite period of time, to an unknown location. Circumstances dictate that Starscream is unlikely to harm Sam, and he has been careful to cover his tracks where Sam's parents are concerned," Optimus told them. "Ironhide informs me that when he contacted the boy's parents on my behalf, that he was 'on vacation.' When Ironhide let it be known that we knew he had been taken away – although not by whom – they told us that on the instructions of Special Operations Police Officer Barry Cade, Sam has been removed to an undisclosed location for an unspecified time for his own protection from members of a criminal group he had knowledge of."

Cliffjumper made a rude-sounding noise and scowled, but did not otherwise pass comment. Optimus ignored the sound and continued.

"Cliffjumper, Mirage, Bumblebee, go and recharge, for when you go out in six hours time, we will want you to be operating at optimum efficiency," Optimus told them. "I want the three of you to split up, but remain in contact with each other, and search for possible sites that Starscream may have taken Sam to. I do not think I need to tell you to keep yourselves from being noticed by the Decepticons, and to stay in disguise around humans, but I shall anyway. If you find where he is being held, report to the others and to me. Unless you have good reason to believe Sam is in immediate danger if you don't do something, do not take any action, but stay and observe. Otherwise, send in a general report at 1800 local time each day. You are dismissed. Good luck," he said.

As Bumblebee and the other two turned and left, Bumblebee with a wave at his human friends, Optimus looked back towards Miles and Mikaela.

 

"Could you two call your parents and let them know that you are staying with friends? If we do get any early news, I imagine you will want to be here. If you do need to be returned to your homes, I can get Sideswipe to run you back."

"That's fine by me," Mikaela said. "Okay by you, Miles?" she asked.

"Yeah, my folks are cool about me staying out, as long as I let them know," he said. Miles phoned his parents first, then Mikaela called her Mom, and both nodded: they had parental permission.

 

Optimus gently gathered Dewbot into both his big hands and rose. Optimus placed Dewbot in his in-office recharge chamber.

"Miles, Mikaela, please follow me, I'll get Ratchet to make up two beds in the medical bay for you to sleep in. Try to get some sleep, and try not to worry too much. I do not think that Starscream will harm Sam, he is bound by the Code to protect him, just as Barricade was. Even Starscream would not break that Code."

Optimus did not voice his concern that there was nothing to stop the other Decepticons from trying to harm or kill Sam, and might even believe that they had every right to exact vengeance on the killer of Megatron.

He had to hope that Starscream realized this, and would be extra vigilant when other Decepticons were sharing the same space as Sam.

 

He also knew that Starscream might be counting on this, so he could repay his debt as swiftly as possible.


	5. The Doctor Is In.

From The Bottom Up.

Chapter Four.

The Doctor Is In.

 

It was the end of just the first day for Sam at the Decepticon base, but he was thoroughly exhausted.

 

After Barricade's recommendation, Starscream had asked Sam for a practical demonstration of his skills. As Starscream was so large, this had involved two-and-a-half-hours of work involving Sam reaching under Starscream's plating, and in some places, even having to get the upper half of his body under the plating, and some of the places were difficult to reach. Getting to some areas involved Sam having to stretch and twist his own body into positions that were uncomfortable at best, and painful at worst.

However, when he had finished, Starscream had given a stretch, and got to his feet. "Barricade has informed me that a few of your kind have hidden talents. In your case, I am forced to agree with him. I will require you to perform this service for me once a week, and I am sure many of the others would appreciate your attentions as well." He lifted Sam back up to his shelf, and looked about, finding some woven plastic sacking that could, along with his spare clothing, be used as bedding and covering. He put them on the shelf.

 

"I will try to secure a greater measure of safety for you by telling the other Decepticons that I am carrying out an experiment with you that requires that you be well-treated by all," Starscream told Sam. "I shall inform them that I am going to try and corrupt you, to turn your way of thinking towards ours, to make you come around to our way of thinking. I shall emphasise that, to that end, you are not to be harmed, threatened, or intimidated by any of them, that if you need to be punished, I shall be the one to carry it out. The whole idea of turning you to us and away from the Autobots will appeal to many of them, and thus they will do as I ask."

"You think so?" Sam asked. "They'll believe you are able to do that?" Starscream nodded.

"I will instruct them to look at the human Internet, and do a search for the so-called "Stockholm Syndrome", in which captive humans can end up feeling affection for their captors, and even come to sympathise with their cause. The idea of winning _you_ over, turning the Autobots favourite squishy, who defeated Megatron, to us, will definitely be pleasing to the processor clusters of many of them. They would love to think that we could, in time, make you, the Autobot's mascot, trust us instead of them. The idea of it makes _me_ excited, and I know it will just be a performance, not a real attempt."

 

Sam's eyelids were drooping and he sat down. "Yeah, okay, but can I sleep now?" he asked. Starscream nodded.

"Yes, of course, you will need to be well rested to carry out your new duties," he said. Sam pulled the clothing and sacks about enough to make himself comfortable, and fell asleep swiftly afterwards as Starscream watched, fascinated in spite of himself, the scientist in him wondering if all humans could put themselves into the organic version of recharging called 'sleep' so easily. A quick look at the Internet answered that question for him.

Once Starscream was certain that Sam was sleeping soundly, he went out to tell the others how he was planning to 'corrupt' Sam, with their assist, which would involve restraint on their part of their anti-human tendencies. Of course, Starscream reflected, at the worst, he was only doing what he and the others were best at, they were not called 'Decepticons' for nothing, even if he was doing so to his own forces. It was all in the name of the Code, after all, and if he were fortunate, he might even manage to corrupt Sam, the human not even realising it. Starscream had read that Stockholm Syndrome was a strange, thing, and there was even a similar Cybertronian condition that could afflict captives. He smiled.

 

If he could manage this, it would be a bonus, and, as it didn't involve hurting Sam, was allowable, even under the rules of the Code.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Starscream had decided to allow Sam to sleep himself out, assuming that once he had had enough of it, his own body would bring him back online. His research on the Internet had told him that humans who did not get enough sleep performed tasks poorly, and could be irritable, so he decided to let Sam's own body wake him when it was ready. After all, there were other things he could be doing while Sam slept - such as organising his laboratory some more. First, however, he needed someone retrieved from their current location: he databurst Skywarp, the best mech for the job in question.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

When Sam awoke again, feeling much better and more refreshed, he found he seemed to be alone. Starscream was nowhere to be seen in the spacious warehouse, and Sam did not fancy trying to climb down the shelving, in case the unit fell over if his weight pulled it to one side. He could not, however, see any other way down. Looking all around the edges on the shelf he was on, he searched in the hope that there was a ladder or some sort of structure he could reach to get himself down.

It was while doing this that Sam noticed movement below out of the corner of his eye. He focused all his attention on the movement, and when he saw what had caused it, he froze, suddenly losing any desire to get down from his shelf.

 

Crouched menacingly on the floor, looking up at him, was a monstrously-sized mechanical scorpion. It was longer than Sam himself was tall, and had a wicked-looking barbed spear mounted on the end of its tail where a regular organic scorpion kept its stinger. The spear looked more than capable of running Sam through if the creature got close enough to him, something Sam intended to avoid if he had any choice in the matter. Sam did not recall seeing this one amongst the assembled mechs earlier, and wondered if it had been in this room all along and he had not noticed. Who was to say that Starscream had only the one pet?

 

At that point, as if summoned by Sam thinking of his name, Starscream himself walked in, nodding to the scorpion.

"Thank you, Scorponok, for keeping an eye on Sam and alerting me when he awoke. I will be sending you back to Qatar later today now that you are repaired; Skywarp will take you, and you may be able to help towards alleviating our fuel problem for us by locating underground oil deposits the fleshy denizens of this world have not yet taken advantage of. You may go now." Without a word, the mechanical scorpion scuttled off.

Starscream raised his hand to Sam's shelf, palm-up, flat, the invitation/order obvious; Sam obeyed, nervously stepping onto Starscream's hand. Starscream carefully transferred Sam to his shoulder, and as Starscream began to walk, Sam again sat down and wedged his butt into a tight space for stability, and held a wing-edge, for Starscream's digitigrade-style leg arrangement made for an unusual bouncy gait, which further encouraged Sam to hang on tightly to the wing.

 

"Today, you will be required to unkink the wires of my wing-brother Skywarp, and his current partner, Scorponok," Starscream told Sam. "Barricade has been out while you slept, to get fuel suitable for your organic make-up, and other items that you may need. He has informed me that you fleshlings need to refuel, recharge, and discharge waste at ridiculously frequent intervals. You may eat and drink before you start unkinking Skywarp's wires, eat, drink and rest for a short time after that, then you will unkink Scorponok's wires, and then eat, drink and rest again after that," Starscream said. "If you need to dispose of waste, at any time, tell my medic, who will be overseeing your work, and he will give permission."

Starscream had by now walked out of his private quarters and into another warehouse, this one containing a few sets of shelves that seemed to be being used to partition the warehouse into smaller but interconnected areas. In one corner was the black-and-purple flyer Sam had seen yesterday, a cheerful - looking brown mech slightly smaller than Ratchet, and, to Sam's dismay, the vicious-looking scorpion-like mech he'd seen five minutes earlier. Barricade was there too, with several bulging carrier bags clutched in the hands of his holoform.

 

Starscream gestured towards the brown mech.

"This is our medic. He will oversee your work," he said. The medic inclined his head at Sam in acknowledgement, and gave him a small smile that was not a disparaging sneer, or calculated to look threatening.

Starscream put Sam down by Barricade's holoform, who put down the bags to rummage in them and offer Sam some sandwiches and a bottle of water. Sam had not realised how hungry he was until then, and devoured the food eagerly, drinking half the bottle of water, putting the rest aside for later. Barricade put out some more food and water, and to Sam's embarrassment (and gratitude) a four-pack of toilet tissue in rolls.

"Okay, I was told you would be working on Skywarp first," the brown medic said. The purple-and-black flyer cast Sam a jaundiced look, but as the medic gestured to the floor, and gave him an irritated look, the flier lay down on his front, and the medic lifted Sam onto Skywarp's back. Careful not to tread too firmly, Sam moved up to the flier's broad shoulders.

 

"Could you lift your plating, please?" Sam asked politely, as Barricade had suggested - was it really only a week or so ago? Skywarp complied.

"If you pull or hurt my wires, I will crush you," he said. 

Sam froze, his hands half-under the plates.

"Skywarp!" snapped the medic. "Starscream has stated that this one is _not_ to be harmed, so you will do no such thing! If he pulls or hurts, you will tell the human so he is aware. Remember, he is in a position that would make it most unwise for him to deliberately harm you. If he is intelligent enough to realise this, it will be a mistake and he will be more careful, if he is not intelligent enough to realise it, it will be no fault of his, but Starscream will have to be told that his pet cannot work around sensitive wires."

"Yes, Doctor Sin," Skywarp said sullenly.

 

"Doctor – _Sin_?" asked Sam nervously. The name did not suit the medic's cheerful demeanour, but Sam knew that looks could be deceiving. Sam had to be aware that the medic might have such a name for a reason, and forewarned was forearmed.

"Yes," The medic said, unperturbed by Sam's reaction to hearing his name. "My real Cybertronian name is unpronounceable to humans, so I have shortened the name of my alt-form, which is a Citroen Synergie. Hence, Synergie becomes Syn."

"Okay," Sam said in relief. At least he knew now.

"Are you going to unkink my wires, or talk to our medic about names all day?" grumbled Skywarp. "If you're going to do it, fleshling, get on with it!"

"Yes, Sir," Sam said, and bent his head (and back) to the task.

 

Two and a quarter hours later (including his three five-minute loo breaks) Sam had finished up with Skywarp, who got up and left without so much as a thank you. Sam was permitted half-an-hour to eat, drink, and freshen up, and then directed towards the scorpion-mech. Cautiously, Sam approached. The medic noticed Sam's hesitation.

"Go closer, human, Scorponok won't hurt you, he's been given fuel today so he's not hungry, he won't eat you," Dr Syn said. The medic did not seem to be grinning, so Sam wasn't sure if that was a joke or not. As he approached, the mech folded one set of legs down, twisted its body, and was suddenly lying on its back, exposing its sensitive belly plating.

Cautiously, slowly, Sam reached his hands towards the plating, noting with surprise that the plating was raised to allow his hands entry before he had even opened his mouth to ask permission. He was exceptionally careful about how gentle he was while straightening and smoothing down those wires, even though the lethal-looking tail was lying flaccid and at full extension along the floor. As he had with Starscream the day before, and Skywarp less than an hour earlier, he wiped his hands on his jeans when they began to get a bit sweaty, as much as to not revolt the Decepticon as much as to make the task less slippery for him.

 

Wherever the scorpion had been had obviously been sandy, Sam noticed, for there was sand everywhere in this mech - under the plates, trapped between wires, and in joints. Sam dealt with it by blowing at it to shift it; the scorpion-mech's legs twitching every now and then, not threateningly, but more in reflex, as if Sam's breath slightly tickled. Sam vaguely recalled Starscream talking about Qatar; it would certainly explain the sand if he recalled his geography lessons correctly.

Another hour and a half later, after it had rolled onto its front, Sam had finished on the mechanical beast. It turned to face him, dipping its head in what Sam hoped was gratitude and again, without a word, scurried out.

 

The doctor took Sam to the big porcelain sink he had used earlier to freshen up in to give himself a good scrub. Sam had noted but not queried how they had hot and cold running water on tap or electricity. After all, if Barricade could hack into the NSA's computer system, why not the utility companies ones? He washed, did necessary ablutions, and went back out, to see Doctor Syn piling some more of the ubiquitous woven plastic sacking in a corner. He pointed at it.

"Rest for a while. In two hours, Thundercracker will be down. He wants an unkinking-session as well. You will need the rest."

Already weary, and too tired to argue, Sam rolled onto the sacking, and for the second night in a row, was asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Syn is the intellectual property of MeowthTwo from fanfictionDOTnet, and is used here with her kind permission.


	6. Repair work.

From The Bottom Up.

Chapter Five-Repair Work.

One week later.

Location: The Autobot Base.

 

"We still do not know exactly where Sam and the Decepticons are, but we have checked out several suspect locations, and have discovered several of them where he and they are definitely _not_ at," Bumblebee stated. "That narrows down the possible locations to about half of the original possibilities."

Bumblebee, Mirage and Cliffjumper were stood in Optimus' office, facing him, being debriefed, and Miles and Mikaela were once more in-base, and sat in chairs like they had a week earlier.

Optimus stood. "You three are the scouts, so perhaps you can make a suggestion on what to do from now," he said. Bumblebee looked at first Mirage and then Cliffjumper, who both nodded to him; he had obviously just been appointed as their spokesbot. He took a step forwards.

 

"We had been discussing this ourselves, and had the idea to keep discreet surveillance on all the areas until such time as we can eliminate them from our list or confirm the Decepticon base location is at one of the locations," Bumblebee said. "For minimum detection, the observer – I would suggest one car at a time, one in the morning and one in the evening – just use passive sensors."

He looked at Miles and Mikaela. "That is, ears, eyes, and in the case of us Autobots, all our receiving equipment. We _could_ use active scanning – scanning for Decepticon signals or human and Cybertronian life-signs in close proximity, for example - but that vastly increases our chances of detection, and if one or more of the other Decepticons panics, Sam could get hurt, or even killed, especially if Starscream is not by Sam's side at the time."

 

"I thought Starscream was sworn to protect Sam?" Mikaela asked.

"He is, but if someone panics, he might not succeed, and that could make things worse," Bumblebee stated. "Starscream might then, once the panic dies down, be seen as an oath-breaker for failing to protect Sam, provoking a leadership challenge. In the resulting battles for supremacy, I doubt the challengers would try to reduce human collateral damage, and in fact a higher human death-toll might be used as part of the challenge."

Mikaela shuddered. "For purely selfish and speciesistic reasons, can I ask that you stick to the passive scans?" she asked.

"Agreed," Optimus said. "We do not wish to place Sam, or any other innocent, in any more danger than need be."

"Is there anything we could do to help?" asked Mikaela. "We're on midterm break for two weeks, and we can't just sit here!"

"You could help with the surveillance, riding past places in Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. They may be jokers, but they do understand the need to keep a low profile, and in fact, that pair being so bright and shiny might throw the Deceps off the fact that they are looking for Sam. Us three scouts they might expect, but not a pair of flashy show-offs like the Twins. They'll be more likely to agree if we suggest that there might be a chance for a spot of jet-judo if they get lucky,” Bumblebee said slyly, shuttering an optic in a wink.

"I shall call the Twins, ask them to be your regular transport for the next two weeks, and appraise them of their role in this." Optimus told the two humans.

 

"Who are these Twins?" Miles asked Mikaela.

"Pranksters who take the vehicle modes of Lamborghinis," stated Mikaela. Miles smiled and stared at Mikaela.

"Really?" he asked. "Are they cool-looking?" Mikaela nodded.

"The very latest sporty models," she told him. “Sunstreaker in particular would stand for no less.”

"Please say we can go past Trent in them, just to see the look on his face?" asked Mikes. Mikaela laughed.

"Why not? You know Miles, for all that he's bright yellow, I think you and Sunstreaker will get on just fine. He loves nothing better than to show off," Mikaela told him.

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Location: The Decepticon Base.

 

A week on from being brought to this Base, Sam was beginning to get used to the hard work.

He straightened up from the medic, putting away the nailbrush, scrubbing brush, wire brush, soft horsehair brush and dental picks and mirrors the doctor had obtained for him from who-knew where, so he could take dirt and stones out of irritating spots and plating joins as well as unkink wires.

Dr Syn stood, and stretched appreciatively.

"I see that being small has its advantages. In fact, you, with those dexterous organic manipulators of yours, may be able to help me with a problem of my own, an issue that is again to do with size. Wash, change, eat, rest, and carry out any more of those necessary but frankly revolting bodily functions that you must, and then come and find me when you are ready."

Sam smiled as he went off to do as the doctor had asked: he supposed that, as a non-biological form of life and a Decepticon, the medic could not help but be revolted by some parts of organic functioning. It just seemed odd for a medic to be so shy of putting a name to the basic functions of peeing and pooping.

After washing, changing, (he tended to bring a change of clothes with him each day now) and doing the necessaries, Sam lay down on his sacking rest area, which had become a permanent fixture of this warehouse that Sam had been told was Dr Syn's med bay, and rested without sleeping for an hour. Fame of his skill with wires had spread within the Base, and he was usually in the med bay most days straightening out one or more mech's wires. The med bay had become Sam's permanent waking base of operations.

 

Sam sought out Dr Syn once his watch told him that his rest hour was up. He found the medic in the far corner of the lab. The medic lifted Sam up to the table he was working at, and Sam started back as he saw what the subject of the doctor's attentions was – the inert form of an all-too-familiar small silver mech.

"Good timing, Sam," said the doctor cheerfully. His big fingers were clamped about the ends of two narrow probes, which were attached to some wires he was obviously attempting to connect together that disappeared into Frenzy's neck. Sam could see, by virtue of the slowly self-repairing half-head, that this was Frenzy's second body, that Bumblebee had said the AllSpark's proximity to Frenzy's head at the Hoover Dam had caused his body to regenerate. Sam recalled the computer lady, Maggie Madsen, telling him later that the spindly little mech had fallen victim to his own boomeranging razor disc/throwing star when all his chosen targets had ducked.

 

"We had at first thought that Frenzy had ceased functioning, and his Spark had rejoined the Essence from which all our Sparks came," the medic explained to Sam. "However, Soundwave persuaded me to check again, and it appears that Frenzy has a decentralised nervous system that makes him very difficult to deactivate. His Spark is present in his chest casing, having fled there from his head. It is dormant, but not gone. There is a good chance that it can be re-energised and brought back to its original strength, but first his body must be repaired. If I had little fingers like you, the job would be done by now, however, using these probes is so frustrating that I never get much, if anything done, by the time another job crops up. At this rate, it could take years, or even decades, before I complete the job." The doctor tried, using the probes, to connect the two wires, failed, and put the probes down in frustration.

 

"I spend so much time trying and failing that the job is stretched out, attempts made between other jobs. The longer it takes to get the job done, the more chance there is that something will go wrong, and that we will, as a consequence, lose Frenzy's Spark to the Essence anyway. Despite his faceless appearance, Soundwave cares about his Cassetticons, and holds a long grudge. Even if that was not the case, I would still try to save him. However, Frenzy is so small that connecting his wires and linkages is fiddly, frustrating and difficult to say the least!" He focused both his red optics on Sam.

"However, your small and nimble organic fingers could probably connect and place wires where they need to go if I tell you, with less frustration, less mistakes, and less of a chance that I'll give up again. Come on, Sam, you're clever enough and gentle enough to do it," The doctor's voice had turned coaxing. "Would you do this, Sam, if not for Frenzy – who is quite agreeable once you get to know him – but for me? Would you use your little organic digits to help get Frenzy back for Soundwave? He would be very grateful, and it is a good idea to get yourself in a good light where Soundwave is concerned."

Sam snorted in disbelief at the idea of Frenzy being "agreeable", but said "Okay." Looking at the pathetic, broken little mech, Sam actually felt an unexpected surge of sympathy for it. When it had attacked him and Mikaela had decapitated it, and he had kicked the head away, he had felt nothing but fear and revulsion, but this was not that time or place, and Frenzy was not, at this moment, being remotely threatening.

Sam flexed his fingers in readiness.

"Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it," he stated.

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Three hours later, Sam had replaced and connected all the wires that Dr Syn had asked him to, and was now assisting with various scavenged bits of human equipment to fasten bits of plating and pieces of exoskeleton on to Frenzy's head. Now, he was holding an optic socket in one hand and trying to find which one out of four slightly different-sized blue optics the doctor had supplied would fit snugly in the socket.

"I do hope Frenzy doesn't make a habit out of this," the medic grumbled. "I don't _have_ many spare optics, particularly blue ones. He'll even be lucky if I have any of the right size. I had to scavenge almost every spare part I have from deactivated bodies I found between here and Cybertron."

Sam pulled a face as he tried pushing the optic into the socket. He really could have done without knowing that last. He supposed that it was a bit like people wanting their organs donated after their death, but still…

At that moment, the optic slid in with a satisfying click. "It's in!" he said jubilantly. Carefully, Dr Syn explained to Sam how to attach the optic and socket to the rest of Frenzy's head, and Sam did so.

 

"Good, now we can recharge his Spark,” Dr Syn stated, plugging in a very dodgy looking half-dismantled appliance with wires hanging out of it: as Sam watched, the wire ends sparkled and crackled with power. "Stand back, I will be attempting to keep this clear of the exoskeleton, but current could jump, and I'd hate to reactivate Frenzy at the cost of your life. That would be bad for us all."

He waited until Sam had stepped about six feet back, and then the medic used the probes to carefully lower the bundled wires into Frenzy's now open chest cavity.

The little mech convulsed, the body jumping. The optics flickered, shuttered and opened and shuttered again. Dr Syn withdrew the wires from Frenzy's chest cavity. Sam assumed it was the home-made Cybertronian equivalent of the hospital defibrillator used to start the hearts of humans who needed it. He approached anxiously, hoping this would work.

Open, shutter, open, shutter, went Frenzy's optics. Open, shutter, open they went again, then they brightened and focused on Sam. The sharp, hinged 'teeth' at the edge of Frenzy's mouth flicked and drew back as a menacing hiss sounded from it. Stepping back, Sam began to wonder if he'd made a mistake in pitying Frenzy. He had no reason to think that it might be grateful.

 

Dr Syn's own optics dimmed briefly, and Frenzy relaxed, its gaze flickering to the medic. The Decepticon doctor reached down, picked Frenzy up, and set him gently on his feet. Then they both turned to look at Sam.

"It is okay, Sam, I told Frenzy that you helped get him functional again, he is grateful and will not attack you," Dr Syn assured him. "You should go and eat, drink, and rest. I will tell Starscream that you have done exceptional work today and should not be roused for anything but the direst of emergencies. I shall suggest that you sleep in here until you wake naturally, and I shall then return you to his care."

 

The Decepticon medic carefully picked Sam up and took him to the sink. "I shall be keeping Frenzy here for a while, and will recharge him from the mains. Usually I would give him to Soundwave or Barricade to recharge, but they are both out on missions. Also, if anything goes wrong, I can get to him before the problem might become irreversible," he told Sam.

Sam washed, went to the toilet, and gulped down a few mouthfuls of food and water. He was exhausted. He stumbled over to his sacking, and rolled onto it. He didn't so much allow sleep to overtake him as much as that sleep overtook him anyway.

 

Dr Syn connected Frenzy to a power supply via some bundled wires, and the silver mech powered down a few levels, still able to pick up sounds and signals, but otherwise unaware. He observed Frenzy for some time, and was satisfied that his Spark-energy signature seemed stable and he was recharging adequately. Nothing seemed to be wrong here.

He set to a multitude of other minor tasks, and when he finished them a few hours later, he checked on Frenzy again – no change in his prognosis – and then looked in on Starscream's helpful little human pet.

Dr Syn was grateful to Sam for the help he had given, for Sam could have refused, and Dr Syn could have done no more than talk to him to try and make him change his mind.

However, Sam had not even needed much verbal persuasion, and had shortened substantially a task that was no little problem for the medic. For a human, Sam was a nice person. He needed a lucky break, and Dr Syn determined that Sam would get one if he had any say.

Sam seemed to be sleeping heavily, and Dr Syn surmised that he should go out to give Starscream a face-to-face report and account of how Sam had helped out with Frenzy. It wouldn't hurt, when Soundwave and Barricade returned, to tell them either: they both had their own reasons for being fond of the little hacker.

 

Dr Syn left, and the med bay was silent but for the humming of Frenzy's recharging wires, and Sam's soft snores.

Sam and Frenzy were the only ones in the med bay when a stealthy figure slipped in, a figure that had observed Dr Syn talking to Starscream, and had surmised that this would mean that Sam was alone and unguarded. It slipped over to where it could see the human boy curled up, vulnerable and insensate on the bags.

Sam was rudely awoken from his sleep as a big hand roughly rolled him onto his back, the three digits splaying to pinion him beneath the hand, the pressure forcing the breath from Sam's lungs.

 

"Cry out, fleshling, and you will just die a little quicker," said a cold, cruel voice. "I have unfinished business with you." The hand relaxed enough to allow Sam to draw in a breath.

 

His brown eyes shot open and dilated in fear, his face paled and he began to sweat. He stared up in horror at the glaring single red optic that was just a couple of feet from his own face. He knew who the red mech looming over him was, but that knowledge brought no relief, only a stomach-churning terror.

His captor was Swindle.


	7. Putting On The Squeeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: Graphic description of mild/moderate torture, and there is mention of vomit and vomiting. Bad language as well at the beginning.
> 
> The description of Swindle is based upon the 2007 toy released under the Michael Bay movie brand.

From The Bottom Up.

Chapter Six-Putting On The Squeeze.

 

 

"Oh nonononono! Oh _shit_!" Sam whispered. His heart was pounding, his mouth dry, his skin slick with sweat. He was alone, helpless, at the mercy of someone who had so far shown no inclination to grant any. This was not good. His captor spoke again, in a quiet, low, almost conversational tone of voice.

"Now, we shall talk, you and I," he told Sam. "I will be asking you questions, and you will answer them. You could make this either easy for yourself, or hard. The easy way is to answer my questions quickly and correctly. The hard way would be to keep silent, or lie, for I _will_ get my answers, one way or the other, from you. Lying or defiance forces me to use _other_ methods of making you answer, some of which may be painful, and many of which, although I enjoy performing them, tend to be uncomfortable for the subject of my attentions."

 

Sam's skin crawled and his stomach flip-flopped at the threats. The red mech whom Starscream had called Swindle spoke again.

"Tell me your name."

Well, _that_ seemed easy enough, although Sam was not fool enough to think that Swindle's questions would remain so.

"Sam," Sam told him.

The increase of pressure from the hand pinning him to the floor was unexpected, and Sam gasped. He had given his name as asked. What more did it want?

"Your _full_ name, fleshling," Swindle demanded.

"Samuel James Witwicky," Sam gasped out. The pressure relaxed back to what it had been. Sam sucked in air gratefully.

"What is your father's full name," Swindle wanted to know next.

"Ronald Archibald Witwicky."

"Mother's full name?" barked Swindle.

"Judith Wendy Witwicky," Sam told him. He was obviously doing things right, for the pressure of the hand did not increase, but it did not decrease either.

 

There was a pregnant pause, which Sam sweated his way through, wishing that the glassy red optic in front of him could give him some indication of the red mech's thoughts. Just as Sam wondered if the red mech would tire of its game, and either kill him outright or just go and leave him alone, it spoke again.

"Who is on duty at the gate post today at the Autobot base?"

Sam gulped. He'd never taken much notice of the rotas when he was at the Base, except to plan his weekends around Bumblebee's shifts. Having been absent for a week, he hadn't a clue who had been put on the gate that morning and afternoon.

"How am I meant to know that?" asked Sam, and then he yelped as Swindle pressed down on his chest again.

"Wrong answer," Swindle told Sam. "Who is on duty at the gate post today at the Autobot base?" he repeated.

"I don't know!" Sam gasped out again.

 

The pressure on his chest did not increase but neither did it decrease. Instead, Swindle lowered his optic until it was mere inches from Sam's pale, terrified face, and his voice got deeper and took on a far more menacing tone.

"Who is on duty at the gate post today at the Autobot base? Last chance to answer me correctly, flesh-creature, before I find out by experimenting on you myself, why another nickname for your kind is 'squishy.' Now, talk, and give me the right answer this time."

"I don't know exactly, but it's usually Ironhide, Cliffjumper, Hound, Bluestreak, or one of the Twins,” Sam blurted out, terrified by Swindle's threat and the too-close proximity of that optic.

"Who?" asked Swindle. Give me _names_!" he ordered.

"The Twins – Sunstreaker and Sideswipe!" Sam said, inwardly cringing at how readily he was giving this creature the names of people he considered friends and comrades.

 

He turned his face to one side, trying to get another centimetre or so of space between that optic and his face. He thought he saw a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye, but when his eyes flicked to look properly, he guessed he must have imagined it, for there was nothing there to look at, just the shelving and the wall beyond.

He was surprised but grateful when the hand relaxed slightly, not by much, but enough so that he could breathe properly again. He took two big breaths of air. The hand shifted position, not releasing his body or his hands, but exposing his left arm to the air.

 

"That will do, it narrows it down enough to be useful to us," Swindle told him, which made Sam feel even worse. Swindle spoke to Sam again.

"Now, tell me the transmission frequency of the force-field covering the Autobot base,"Swindle told Sam. Sam stared at Swindle, even though that meant looking directly at that creepy glowing optic.

"I don't know, I'm not a technical guy!" Sam said. The pressure increased again: Sam fought to hold on to the breath in his lungs.

"What is the transmission frequency of the force-field covering the Autobot base?" Swindle repeated.

"I-don't-know!" enunciated Sam, with some of the precious breath he was attempting to save.

 

The pressure eased: Sam found he could breathe again, but his relief was broken as he felt the harsh, unyielding ends of Swindle's digits grasp his lower left arm. As the pressure on the arm increased to the point where it became painful, Sam could not help himself, and cried out, fresh sweat breaking out on his forehead, and tears running from his eyes with the pain. Swindle chuckled, and Sam got the feeling that the Decepticon torturer was enjoying seeing him in pain. The squeezing did not go away, but did not get any less either.

"The frequency, now!" barked Swindle at Sam.

"I don't know!" Sam almost screamed, turning his face to one side as more tears welled up and ran in rivulets down his face, joining the sweat. Through the blur of tears he once again thought he saw movement to the side, but upon blinking and looking again, there was still nothing.

 

Abruptly, the pain in his arm subsided from stabbing to a steady throb as the metal fingers released his arm from their grip.

"Very well, I see that I shall have to _take_ the information I require from you directly," Swindle said.

' _What does he mean by that?_ ' Sam thought. Swindle shook what looked like some sort of sharp and pointed connector cord from the wrist of the hand not holding Sam. It hung there, the sharp silver tip glinting in the light from the fluorescent strips set along the warehouse roof.

 

Sam felt Swindle's hand lift from him; Sam tried to roll free, but he had just got on to his front when Swindle's hand settled firmly on his legs and lower back. Swindle had been expecting the attempt, Sam realised, had wanted Sam on his front, and had taken advantage of Sam's desire to escape from him.

 

Sam felt a sharp, harsh finger rip open his T-shirt at the back, felt Swindle's claws trail up and around his back, scratching the sensitive skin painfully, felt them dig into the skin at the back of his neck, and scour the scalp as they roved through his hair, as if searching for something. Blood from his scalp trickled down his face, joining the sweat and tears already on his face.

 

"Where are your dataports, human? They can't be in too an unusual location, they have to be near the processors," Swindle queried, frustration evident in his voice. "It will be easier for you if you tell me where to find them than if I have to search further." The cord trailed up his face. "Ah, perhaps in your audio receivers?" Swindle said, sounding pleased. Sam felt the cold metal end of the connector enter his left ear. Sam couldn't help remembering how sharp it had looked. He shuddered.

"Humans don't _have_ dataports!" he cried out. "We're organic, biological, flesh and blood, we don't have circuitry or data feeds built in, we have to use our own five senses to gather information, we have to learn and remember, to do things the hard way! If you don't believe me, look on our internet!" he said.

Swindle went still, and silent, and Sam assumed that Swindle was indeed accessing the internet. Sam didn't dare move or try to escape: the hand secured his hips and legs against the floor too hard for Sam to even try to escape. Sam took advantage of this to look at his left forearm: there was the purple of bruising already beginning to discolour the skin.

 

"Okay, back to Plan A," stated Swindle, withdrawing the connector from his ear. The digits of the hand on him curled around, picking him up from the sacks, twisting as it threw him back down onto them so he was face-up again. The impact, although cushioned by the sacks, jarred the breath from his lungs again, and his vision swam. He coughed, and then Swindle's hand came down again, crushing his chest again.

Sam cried out, only a whimper escaping due to lack of air as he felt a stabbing pain in his abdomen and heard a crack: he guessed a rib had just given under the pressure. Swindle must have realised, for the pressure eased slightly again. Sam sucked in a breath of air, the pain it took to do this bringing more tears to his eyes and a ragged sob escaped his lips.

Sam felt those metal fingers take his left forearm in a vice-like grip again.

"We'll talk about the Autobot base again, shall we?" said Swindle, his tone once again deceptively casual. "You have been observed going there with your male parental unit in his car when your Autobot owner, Bumblebee, is out on other duties. On such occasions, you have been observed to enter a five-digit code on the key pad on the left-hand gate post. Your body has always obscured the numbers you are entering. You will tell me those numbers, in the correct order, now."

 

Sam paled: this was a question he _did_ know the answer to, but he had no intention of telling this one-eyed creep the answer, for this could compromise the security of the Base, and thus his Autobot friends. Sam glared at Swindle, and pressed his lips firmly shut.

Swindle chuckled nastily. "Ah, resistance, I love it when they resist, it makes things more interesting, I can move on to other methods of making them talk." He pressed down on Sam again, and the fire in his side got more intense as the abused rib had more pressure put on it. He could feel vomit rising up his throat, bitter and hot, as he fought to stop himself from being sick. The fingers pressed harder, and Sam screamed as he felt and heard the two bones crack under the pressure.

"If you give me the code, fleshling, I can stop squeezing," Swindle told Sam.

 

Sam could no longer control the urge to vomit, his head jerking forward and to the side. He didn't notice that Swindle had avoided the jet of half-digested food and bile, might have regretted not having splashed the torturer, but the only thing he cared about at that precise moment was his arm, and the pain shooting up and down it. Something had to give, and it did: Sam passed out.

It was only a momentary relief: as he came around, the pain in his side and arm returned to torment him. Swindle was still holding him down with one hand, but had released his arm.

"Oh no you don't, no-one escapes _me_ by offlining, it's not as easy as that." He raised one sharp digit so that Sam could see it.

"How long would you remain silent if I were to push this into your soft, disgusting, wet optic, human? I wonder if I could push in far enough to destroy your pathetic, primitive organic optical sensor but not far enough to kill you yet? There are still so many possible vulnerable places on a squishy to try to exploit for the purposes of interrogation. I tire of you, you _will_ die, and you will be _grateful_ to be permitted to die by the time I have finished with you, but that will not be yet. I shall take the greatest care to move slowly, and carefully, so as not to destroy you until I am ready to do so."

 

Swindle gave another unpleasant chuckle as a cold sweat broke out over Sam's entire body at the threat, and he tried to push himself back into the sacks away from Swindle. The single optic focused on Sam's face, and Sam saw the menacing digit begin to descend.


	8. Puppet On A String.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to soaringphoenix68 (fanfictionDOTnet) for reminding me of something about the personality and likely reaction of our favourite Decepticon hacker. :)
> 
> Thanks again to Anne Clothier/MeowthTwo for allowing me to borrow her Headfixer character as well as Dr Syn for this chapter. Except for two incidences of emphasis in Sam’s thoughts, when I write in bold type, this is databurst conversation between the Decepticons in the room.

From The Bottom Up

Chapter Seven-Puppet On A String.

 

 

 

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, a futile gesture that would do nothing to protect his eyes, he knew, and twisted his head to one side. Tears oozed out from under the lids, bathing Sam's already wet face with more warm, salty fluid. He felt the tip of the digit make contact with the sensitive skin under his right eye, and flinched.

Swindle kept the touch light, trailing the digit tip around Sam's eye sockets, first the right, then the left, then the right again.

"Which one shall I destroy first, fleshling, the right or the left?" he asked. The finger stopped moving, and then it was no longer touching his skin at all. Sam chanced opening his eyes again, and saw that Swindle had drawn the finger back, letting it hover in the foreground of his vision.

"Or perhaps you might wish to reconsider giving me the information I require," Swindle suggested. His voice seemed to soften a little. "Come on, human, how hard is it to tell me a small sequence of five little numbers?" he coaxed.

 

Sam was not reassured by the tone change at all. By now, Sam had realised that no matter how much (or how little) he told the red mech, Swindle would keep torturing him until he decided to kill him. Even if Sam told him the five-digit code to the Autobot base, he'd lose his eyes the next time he could not, or would not answer a question, or when the cruel little mech tired of toying with him. Sam was not going to endanger his friends at the Autobot base by telling Swindle the code, although he hoped a sequence of five random digits – the ends of his cell phone number, perhaps – might persuade Swindle to kill him quickly and get it over with. How would Swindle know if Sam had given a bogus code?

 

 _‘Speaking of a code, or more specifically, **the** Code, where the Hell is Starscream when I actually **need** him?'_ Sam thought, gritting his teeth, and getting ready to close his eyes again.

A chittering sound drew both Sam and Swindle's attention to Sam's right. A silver blur was all that Sam saw, a silver blur that launched itself through the air and landed on Swindle's shoulder, next to his neck.

It was Frenzy!

 

Sam recognised the spindly little mech as it flipped out a lethal-looking spike from its wrist and rammed it into the back of Swindle's neck. The chittering sounded again, and although Sam could not understand the language being spoken, the tone of voice, to Sam, was unmistakeable. Sam could have sworn that Frenzy was cussing Swindle out, as the hacker yanked down hard on the spike firmly embedded in Swindle's left data port.

Swindle's reaction was swift and loud. The Decepticon torturer straightened up abruptly with a shrill electronic squeal that sounded itself like a screech of pain. His hands jerked up towards his neck but froze mid-way.

 

Sam took this opportunity to grab his broken arm at the wrist to steady it – the pain this caused making him cry out and threatening to make him black out again – and then get to his feet and scramble a few feet away.

Swindle's optic dimmed to just a dull red spot of light in the centre, as Frenzy's head tipped back on its neck and his chittering continued, alternating between the scolding tone used earlier and a lighter tone that reminded Sam of laughter. Swindle took two steps backwards, turned almost a hundred and eighty degrees on the spot, so he was facing away from the human boy, and took two more tottering steps away from Sam.

Sam realised at this point that the Decepticon hacker had somehow gained control of Swindle's body, as if Swindle was no more than a giant puppet. Frenzy made another jerking movement at the back of Swindle's neck, and let out a sighing mechanical hiss of satisfaction. As Swindle began toppling forwards, his optic turned as if to look at Sam, but even the dull red point had gone from the optic's centre. Frenzy yanked out his metal spike from Swindle's neck, and leaped off Swindle and landed on the floor as the door opened with a bang.

 

Starscream and Dr Syn came in at a run as Swindle hit the floor with a loud clattering noise. As Dr Syn headed for Sam, Starscream stopped by Swindle's inert body, drew back one foot, and kicked the insensate mech viciously.

"What happened?" asked Dr Syn of Frenzy. Frenzy let out a high-speed chittering that must have been understandable to both the medic and the Decepticon leader, for the doctor scowled, and Starscream gave Swindle another hard kick.

Dr Syn stepped towards Sam, the scowl disappearing and he crouched, holding his hands out, and gently scooping Sam into them. Sam's arm was throbbing painfully and he was getting dizzy. As the adrenaline form his ordeal began to wear off and shock began to set in, Sam began shaking, and he saw black spots swarming in front of his eyes.

"Okay, Sam, you're safe now," said the doctor. It was the last thing Sam heard before he fainted.

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Dr Syn took Sam over to his work surface, and lay the human down on it. He was glad he'd read up on humans, and managed, with Barricade's help, to 'acquire' some things he might need to treat humans from a local drugstore and a nearby hospital a few days after Sam's arrival. He beckoned Frenzy over, the roles Sam and Frenzy had played out earlier that day being reversed as Dr Syn gave Frenzy instructions upon setting up a drip for Sam with nutrients and a sedative in.

As Frenzy helped the medic put Sam's arm in a bandage with fibreglass splints either side to straighten the bones so they would set properly, Starscream opened a three-way data link.

 **"What happened? Why did you wait so long before acting, Frenzy? Why did you wait so long to call us?"** Starscream asked. The little silver mech looked up at his leader, optics shuttering once or twice before he replied.

 **"I had to recalibrate my communications system after the doctor repaired me in order to send communications. I could only receive at first. I also had to wait to act in case Swindle's reflexive response to my presence could have killed the flesh-boy accidentally. While he was leaning over him, to land on his neck could have caused him to increase the pressure to lethal levels. These human creatures seem fragile,"** Frenzy explained, as the doctor finished using a brush to apply a quick-hardening solution to the bandaging to put the lower arm and hand in what the humans called a 'cast.'

Starscream had only told Barricade, Dr Syn, Soundwave (who would have found out anyway if he'd not) and now Frenzy the real reason for Sam's presence. It was safer for himself and Sam if as few people as possible knew. It pained him to exclude even his two wing-brothers, but Skywarp's foolishness and Thundercracker's rivalry with him could have jeopardised everything with one careless sentence.

 

Swindle, from his position on the floor, groaned and stirred. Starscream turned his attention to Swindle, who was recovering – Frenzy had only sent him into a temporary offlined state, almost like an induced faint - and then back to the medic. The doctor held Sam's upper body upright, telling Frenzy how to wrap Sam's lower abdomen in stretchy bandaging to support the broken rib.

 **"What are his injuries? Will he survive?"** Starscream asked, expanding the data link so Swindle could send and receive as well.

 **"He has three structural organs broken, some internal and external leakage, although not enough to endanger him, plus subdermal haematomas, what the humans call 'bruising.' His body's biological response to the trauma has sent him into 'shock.' My treatment, plus his body's own repair systems, means that the damage will not be permanent,"** Dr Syn told Starscream. **"In answer to your second question, he will survive."**

Starscream turned his attention back to the now-cowering Swindle.

 **"How very fortunate for you, Swindle,"** Starscream told him, dealing the still-dazed red mech a violent backhand, sending him flying backwards by twenty feet. **"If he were to die, your own life would be forfeit."** He strode over as Swindle picked himself up. **"I _told_ you this human was too valuable for you to interrogate, I _told_ you to leave him alone. You _deliberately_ disobeyed me, Swindle, and I am your Leader. Such disobedience must be punished."**

Starscream reached down with one hand, grabbing Swindle around his neck. **"Look after my pet, Doctor, and keep him well. Frenzy, come with me and call everyone else to assemble in the main hangar."** He cut the data link and strode towards the door, half-dragging the red mech behind him.

 

He walked into the main hangar, striding in and marching to the middle, pulling Swindle to his feet. Swindle cringed but did not dare speak, he was not the brightest mech there, but had enough processor power to knows that when Starscream was this torqued, to only speak if spoken to.

Starscream watched as his followers assembled before him. There was Soundwave, with his Cassetticons - Rumble, Ravage, Ratbat and Laserbeak - and Frenzy joined them. There, too, were Barricade, (who, like Soundwave, had returned from his assignment), Wreckage the tank-mech, his wing-brothers Thundercracker and Skywarp, the truck-mech Payload, the dour Dropkick, plus Scorponok, the processor-doctor Headfixer, and the ever-pessimistic dark car Dead End. As he watched, Dead End noticed the cowering Swindle.

"What's he done now?" Dead End said to Headfixer. "Judging by the look on Lord Starscream's face, he's bound for the scrap-heap at the same time as I am-maybe sooner."

"Sooner, I'd say," Headfixer muttered back, also noting the fury on Starscream's face and in his optics.

 

Starscream reached down, pushing down on Swindle's neck, and Swindle sensibly obeyed the unspoken command, dropping to his knees. Starscream looked up to address his followers.

"Decepticons, Swindle here has put our project to corrupt the Autobot mascot to our cause in jeopardy by directly disobeying an explicit order that I, your Leader, personally gave him to leave my pet alone." He glared at Swindle. "In earlier times, I would have killed him for such disloyalty, but I have learned some restraint in becoming the permanent leader of the Decepticons, and Swindle has been useful in the past."

Swindle, who had clearly expected to be executed, looked up with hope in his optic, but Starscream had no intention of letting Swindle get away that easily: had Sam died, Soundwave could have easily revealed about Starscream and the Code, declared him Oathbreaker, and risked his leadership. He continued to speak.

"I can be merciful and fair: I will give Swindle a chance to defend himself. I will duel him, melee weapons only. I am taller than he, but he is manoeuvrable enough to make up, and his weapons are his hands. This is not as uneven as it might seem, and it is better then execution." He turned his gaze back on Swindle.

"Is that not so, Swindle? The choice is yours: I can execute you here and now as an example of what I do to those disloyal enough to challenge my orders, or you can accept my offer to duel: if I defeat you and you beg enough, I may spare your miserable Spark."

Swindle was now shaking: he was clearly regretting his actions as he realised the consequences to himself. He realised that Starscream was waiting for an answer, and spoke.

"Y-yes, Lord Starscream, it is better, and I accept your offer to duel," He said.

Starscream saw his followers spread out to form the customary circle around the two battlers. He smiled.

 

"Good. Take your position, Swindle, and prepare to fight, or beg, for your life," Starscream ordered, moving back and bracing himself in a fighting stance, feet apart, knees ready to spring into action, and he flexed his own razor-sharp digits in anticipation.


	9. Nursing Grudges

From The Bottom Up.

Chapter Eight-Nursing Grudges.

 

Sam jerked awake, his brown eyes snapping open and roving around the room as he recalled the earlier events. His arm and side still ached, but not as badly as they had.

 

Movement on the other side of the med bay drew his attention. His eyes widened and he stiffened as he saw Swindle and Dr Syn. However, Sam noticed that Swindle was supine on Dr Syn's work surface, appearing in no state to do anything but lie there.

Dr Syn was working on welding up one of several deep scratches and tears on Swindle's arms and upper legs; less deep but still painful-looking scratches marred his upper body. His optic was cracked, and some wires appeared to be hanging loosely from between cracks in his armour. There were dents all over, and Sam wondered if the red mech would ever be functional again.

He moved his right arm over to his left, felt a twinge from his ribs at the movement, and winced. His questing fingers brushed against a rough, hard casing around his arm. He lifted the arm, found he was unable to straighten it, and looked at the cast that covered his left arm from the base of his fingers up to a couple of inches below his armpit. His elbow had been bent before the cast had set, so now his left arm was bent there until the cast came off. He lowered the arm onto his body and used his other arm to try levering himself up, and a soft grunt escaped his lips as the motion aggravated the pain in his side.

 

Dr Syn turned at the sound. He left Swindle, and came over.  
"Don't try to get up yet, Sam, I have to check you." A green beam of light sprang from a point on Dr Syn's neck, and it briefly played over Sam's form. Then it stopped, and Dr Syn nodded.

"Yes, my scans, calibrated for a human, suggest that it should be safe for you to get up, but you should not over-exert yourself. Frenzy helped me prepare a sling on you while you were asleep, you should put it on to support the damaged limb. It should self-repair within six to eight weeks." He looked at Sam with an expression Sam could not read as Sam managed to put the sling around his neck and, with a bit of muttered under-the-breath swearing, slip his arm into it. "You humans do take a long time to self-repair, don't you, and even that only applies to your skin, muscle, and bones. Your internal systems do not appear to regenerate if they are damaged or removed."  
"No, they don't," Sam said. "We're organic, we have our limitations."

Dr Syn nodded.

"Yes, your kind are quite a fascinating study," he said. "Resilient and adaptable in so many ways, yet lacking certain abilities and fail-safes that we take for granted. Redundancies where they are not needed, and vulnerabilities that all too often end up in the termination of some of your kind. The human neck, for example, has two such areas-"

Sam cut the medic off.

"Okay, we're not as well-designed as you, and I'm afraid I don't find human inadequacies as fascinating as you,” he said. "Okay, the human form kinda sucks sometimes, but it's all I have and I can't change that," he shrugged.  
Dr Syn nodded. "I apologise for making you feel inadequate."

Sam held his peace on that, hoping he could find something else they could talk about. Not that Sam was all that squeamish, but his sore side and arm were serving well enough to remind him about how fragile he was compared to the mechs around him, without Dr Syn telling him a hundred and one _other_ ways that he could meet his doom.

 

"Sam, could I ask you a favour?" Dr Syn asked.  
"Uuh…..I guess so," Sam said. Dr Syn waved a hand towards Swindle's inert form.

"Although he is an easier size to work on, there are still a few components of Swindle that would take me hours of trying, failing, and cursing that with your help would take minutes and free up those otherwise wasted hours for me to do other things," the medic said. "I'll understand if your recent experience with Swindle would put you off, but it would help me as well. If you say no, I'll understand and not ask again, but I thought I'd just ask."

Sam shuddered, but he had come to like Dr Syn, and nodded his head. "I'll help you, if you think I can help with one busted arm, but only on one condition; I'm out of his way when you bring him back online."

"I had decided that that would be the case already, whether you helped or not. Thank you, Sam," Dr Syn said.

Sam looked at the seriously damaged mech.

"What did Starscream do to him?" Sam asked.  
"Challenged him to a duel, came very close to killing him, made him beg for his life, pledge never-ending loyalty to him, and then made him swear a binding oath to obey his orders in the future," Dr Syn said cheerfully. "Only _after_ he had done that was Payload ordered to bring him to me to be repaired. Starscream was careful; he did enough damage to be within an hour or less of killing Swindle, but not so much that he would die prematurely. In doing so, he has solidified his position of authority by punishing a transgressor, but also by showing mercy by allowing him to live – albeit getting conditions from him first," the medic explained. "I know Swindle had it coming, the miserable little slagger, but I do wish that Starscream would remember that when he almost dismantles somebody for disobeying him or being disloyal, that _I'm_ the one who has to put those he has punished back together," he grumbled.

Sam had a thought. "Dr Syn, you seem honourable, and you save lives all the time, have you ever saved either Starscream or Barricade?"  
"Yes, I have," Stated the medic.  
"How would they repay you?" Sam asked. "I can't imagine that you are often in danger, and as they have taken the Code, don't they have to repay it?"

"Medics are a different case. There is a clause in the Code that medics are not bound to take repayment as it is their duty to save a life. For the same reason, Starscream does not need to repay Ratchet, who did, as much as you, save his life by fixing his damaged coolant line," Dr Syn explained. He cocked his head.

"In fact, if you may be helping me, it may be an idea for you to take a pledge of healing, which will class you as exempt from any new debts you may gain or end up owing," the medic said. "You'll still have to let Starscream repay that which he owes you, but at least that way you will not accrue any more, or you might end up staying here longer than anyone might otherwise have foreseen. It is fortunate for you that Frenzy was able to clear the debt he owed you for saving his life by helping me mend him yesterday, so quickly - a fact that is not lost on Starscream."

Dr Syn grinned. "He is, of course grateful that Frenzy was able to save you from further harm, but is rather torqued that he was not able to do this himself, and rid himself of his debt. Come on, Sam, we can work out some wording for your pledge while we work on Swindle."

This is what they did, and Sam quickly took the three lines that he and Dr Syn worked out would be sufficient to ensure that no further issues regarding the Code would arise while Sam was at the Base.

 

A few hours later, the work was done.

"Thank you for your assistance, Nurse Sam," Dr Syn said, as he carefully placed Sam on a surface well out of Swindle's reach. He placed a new bag of food Barricade had obtained up there as well.  
 _'Well, I guess being a nurse is a step up from being a pet,’_ Sam reflected as he tore open a packet of sandwiches and began to bolt them down as the medic put Swindle in recharge. Sam himself decided to use that time to catch a little sleep.

 

Sam woke just as the medic was bringing Swindle back on-line. Swindle's optic brightened in the centre with a red glow that swelled to fill the lens, and sat up with the mechanical equivalent of a groan.

Dr Syn fixed the torturer with a look, and addressed him.

"Swindle, although Starscream has forgiven you for your actions, as you know, he can be volatile. If something should happen to put him in a fouler mood than that which he is now in, he may decide to kill you after all to release his tension. You know as well as I how volatile our leader can be. Thus, may I offer you a suggestion?"  
"Yes, Dr Syn," said Swindle, and although the red mech had no face to speak of, he seemed, to Sam, nervous.  
"I suggest you go out, far out, and carry out a thorough geologic survey of the area. Maybe you can find some ores or something else we can use as fuel," the medic said. "Even if you do not, if you stayed out, say, four months or so, recharging from the sunlight, and do not draw unwanted attention to yourself, I would imagine the incident will be almost forgotten, and likely forgiven. Don't worry about consulting Starscream, I'll clear it for you with him later, but if I were you, I'd go now before something has a chance to happen,” the doctor told him.

"Yes, Dr Syn," Swindle said sullenly. He turned his optic, spotted Sam on his high perch, the focus of his gaze narrowing as he gave Sam one last venomous glare, and then turned and left. Sam was glad to see him go; if Swindle had disliked him earlier, he obviously now hated him, and Sam hoped Starscream's obligation would be paid by the time Swindle returned.

"Don't worry, Sam, he won't return until I call him back, and I don't plan on doing so until the debt is paid – unless that takes more than six months, and if that happens, I have an auxiliary plan,” Dr Syn assured Sam.

 

The door opened to admit Starscream, and the doctor nodded.  
"Lord Starscream, your pet has very good hands, even with one limb broken. As such, I have made him a nurse," Dr Syn said. "Additionally, I promised Swindle that I would speak to you about his burning desire to atone for his earlier actions by doing a lengthy geological survey of the area in search of something to use as fuel. He has already departed, I told him that I would tell you."

"Very good, Dr Syn. I will take my pet back to his customary sleeping place now," He said, putting out his hands: the doctor picked Sam up carefully and placed Sam in them. Starscream walked out with Sam cupped in his hands.  
"For now, it is still advisable for you to remain a pet, but as the others get used to you being a nurse, perhaps the pet designation can be dropped," Starscream stated. "At least that way, Skywarp may stop asking me if I have yet taught you to roll over and play dead. At the moment, your damaged arm will be sufficient reason for me to say not yet. Hopefully, we can change your status further before your arm heals."  
As Sam was placed on his usual bed and lay down, he hoped so too.

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Sam didn't sleep much, having rested during Swindle's recharge, just grabbing a few hours here and there having something to eat, and dozing the rest of the time. Starscream took Sam and a change of clothes through to the medical bay the next morning, cupped in his hands again, and put him down by his sacks, leaving again almost straight away, muttering something about having to go out to refuel.

Dr Syn did not seem to be about either, Sam noticed as he sat on his sacking. The med bay was not, however, totally devoid of life, for the tall mech with the Optimus-style battle mask was in the med bay, probably also waiting for the medic, Sam figured. He paid Sam no attention at first anyway, and as Sam felt intimidated by him, and did not wish to court trouble he didn't need, he decided to play it safe and only speak if he was spoken to. He did not wish to risk being squished by some mech if they grew tired of his talking, and this particular mech was Optimus- _sized_ as well as sharing a similar battle-mask.

Sam sighed: everyone around here, except for Frenzy, seemed larger than him. He could have done with his Mom, Dad, and Mikaela – not that he was wishing them here by any means. He was more wishing he could be with them, back at the family home, safe and happy, doing his chores again and walking Mojo. He thought of little Mojo and sighed again: he missed the neurotic little Chihuahua.

 

To one side of him, a growl sounded, a low, deep growl. Sam stiffened; if that was an animal, it had to be a big one. Had a bear or wolf managed to get inside the area, he wondered? Slowly, he turned his head and his eyes widened and sweat broke out as he saw what had made the noise.

Approaching him almost soundlessly was a big, black, four-footed robotic creature. Although it's general shape was something very dog or cat-like – including a long tail that Sam suspected might be prehensile - it was the height of a fully-grown racehorse, but much more solidly built, being almost twice as wide as the same racehorse.

It was pure black, except for the glaring red optics in its face, the sharp-looking silver teeth, the purple Decepticon logo on the flat of its head, and the two sleek, silver missiles that were mounted on its hips. As it took another step forwards, its mouth opened a little, the light shining off those sharp canines as it growled deep in its throat again.

"Oh nonononono!" Sam whispered, backing off nervously as it took another step forwards, still snarling. He noticed that the beast seemed to have several characteristics he associated with cats, and others he associated with dogs, but, he reflected, whatever the beast was, it was certainly no Mojo.


	10. Does Music Also Soothe The Savage Beast?

From The Bottom Up.

Chapter Nine: Does Music Also Soothe The Savage Beast?

"Uhh, n-nice robot, g-good boy – girl - beast-mech…" stammered Sam, who was also torn between holding his hand up so the beast could sniff it, but worried that if he did, the mechanical creature might tear it off.

"Ra-vage-stop!"

 

The voice was not monotone, but it came close, and came from the Optimus-sized mech Sam had spotted earlier. The effect of the voice on the mechanical cat/dog was instant: the growling stopped, the advance stopped, and it turned its head to look at the big mech. The voice spoke again.  
"The-hu-man-is-not-to-be-harmed, Ra-vage. Play-nicely."

 

The mechanical creature –Ravage?- turned its head back towards Sam, and shook itself, then lowered it's head to sniff at Sam, who froze, and let it do whatever it was doing, although Sam would have bet money that it's nose contained more than just olfactory sensors. It let out a rumble that had a different, more calming tempo and tone to the earlier growl, a repeating sound, like that of a car's engine, and Sam recognised it as a purr – deeper and more mechanical than that of your average domestic moggy, but still a purr nevertheless.

The head lowered until it's flat top, emblazoned with the spiky purple Decepticon logo was level with his chest, and then it nudged him. By its standards, it was probably a gentle tap, but it sent Sam sprawling onto his butt, luckily, he rolled onto his right side after his undignified landing, so his arm wasn't jarred.

"Thank-you-for-helping-to-repair-Fren-zy." This was the Optimus-sized mech again, battle mask still up, and Sam was beginning to wonder if there was a mouth under there at all, or whether this mech looked like that whether it was fighting or not. "Ra-vage-has-asked-if-you-can-smooth-his-wires-with-your-one-un-damaged-arm." He continued. "I-am-des-ig-nated-Sound-wave."

"Uhh…sure, if…Ravage?...could lie on his side?" Sam said, drawing his legs out of the way just in time as Ravage folded away its missiles and rolled onto its side, as graceful as any domestic or wild organic cat. The purr resonated along the floor, as Sam reached for his cleaning tool kit, displacing his spare clothing as he did so. His jeans fell to one side, landing next to Ravage's chest. Sam was concentrating more on the response from Ravage; although his form was that of a beast, he clearly understood Sam. Sam guessed he shouldn’t be so surprised; Scorponok had showed a similar intelligence with regard to understanding spoken words.

"Could you lift your plating, Ravage, so I can get at the wiring?" Sam asked. Still purring, Ravage did so.  
Sam carefully began unkinking the wires.

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Location: The Autobot Base, a few minutes later.

There was a hurried knock on the door of Optimus' office.  
"Come in," said Optimus. The door opened, admitting an excited but agitated-looking Bumblebee.  
"Optimus, I think I've just heard Sam, but it's hard to tell!" Bumblebee said.  
"Heard Sam? How? Explain," Optimus said.  
Bumblebee paused, lining up what he had to tell Optimus.

"After Mission City, Sam's mother asked me to give her a microphone and tracer that I could use to listen in on Sam and keep an eye on where he was, in case he was ever in danger again. She wanted me to be able to get to him if he was. I did, and she sewed it into a seam of one of his lower limb garments. Of course, Sam changes those garments every so often, so she was a bit disappointed, but we all forgot about it."  
"So, was he wearing them when he disappeared?" asked Optimus.

"No, but Barricade _did_ turn up and pick up some spare clothes for Sam from his mother, and it looks like that garment is among them. I can hear Sam speak, but it's overlaid by some other noise.  
"Let's hear, Bumblebee," Optimus said, calling Sideswipe to bring Miles and Mikaela in from the R&R room, where they seemed to spend much of their time talking with the other mechs on the Base.  
A regular, deep thrumming noise sounded from Bumblebee's speaker, plus the sound of human breathing. Then, it was Sam's voice.  
"Okay, just need to get my hand a bit further in-ah, there, got it!" The thrum got fractionally louder. "Let me brush in there, ah, where's my tweezers, you got a bit of grit in that joint. Got it!" Sam's voice said.

Mikaela and Miles were brought in by Sideswipe at that point, who also stood listening, Miles perched in one hand, Mikaela in the other.  
"Can you tilt your head down, I'll check for grit and dirt. There! Let me rub that a bit, that should be smoother now. Actually, I'd say your buddy over there probably looks after you, you seem better off than some of the others I've treated,” Sam's voice continued. At Optimus' nod, Bumblebee cut the sound, and put it, with the rest, on to record.

"He sounds alright, just about," Said Mikaela. "He's not crying, or sounding ill, and at least we know he IS still alive."  
"We'd soon know well enough if he was not," Optimus stated. "There would be a leadership challenge. Bumblebee, could you track the signal passively, see if we can find out where Sam is being held?"  
"I can cruise about, detect the strength of the signal, head towards where it is strongest. It'll take time, but it can be done," Bumblebee stated. "However, I shall wait a while first before searching, see if anything from what I hear can give me any clues, or give me warning of something I should know about." Bumblebee stated.

"Then do so," Optimus said. "It is not much, what we heard, but at least it is news, and it is not bad news."

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Location, Decepticon Base, two hours later.

Sam cleaned and unkinked Ravage, and finished off by giving its hide a vigorous brush with a scrubbing brush, something Ravage's reactions suggested he enjoyed, stretching and arching its back and flexing its claws, its neck curving back and its tail curling around, purring so hard that the vibrations ran up and down Sam's body, an odd but not entirely unpleasant sensation.

Dr Syn had come in halfway through but had merely raised a hand in acknowledgement, bringing in boxes of who-knew-what and sorting them out.

After Ravage had got up, Soundwave and the big cat-mech had thanked Sam and left, and Sam went to sit down, as he assumed that the doctor would call him over if he wanted help. He took an hour to rest, eat, and clean himself up a bit. Then Dead End came in, having gained a dent in his aft he didn't want to explain, and Sam learned how to beat out dents in plating. Dead End sloped off afterwards, muttering something about ending up on the scrap heap.

"Don't worry, from what I hear, Dead End was barely enSparked when he started moaning about ending up on the scrap heap. Headfixer's going to check and find out if it's a processor glitch, but he'll be okay."

Sam went to change his clothes, the ones he was wearing having become pretty sweaty.  
Once he had done this, Starscream came in.  
"I am now suitably refuelled. Skywarp has reminded me that all pets need to be taken out and exercised. Come, I will take you for a flight and a chance to exercise your legs." Sam nodded, excusing himself from Dr Syn, and allowing Starscream to pick him up again.

"Yes, that would be a good idea," Dr Syn told Starscream. "Sam needs to have sunlight on his skin to synthesize Vitamin D which strengthens bones - his endoskeletal material. As he has three of these 'bones' self-repairing he needs that vitamin. Make sure he gets some sun, don't bring him back unless there's an emergency for at least two hours," He suggested.

  
Starscream took Sam for a forty-five minute flight above the clouds, riding the jet stream to conserve fuel, then half-glided, again to save fuel, to a remote place where Sam could walk about and Starscream could convert to bipedal form.

"What's the issue with fuel?" Sam asked. "Can't you just go to an air base as a plane and fuel up?"  
"It's not so easy," said Starscream. "As your Government now know there is at least one of us Decepticons that wear this form, they are double-checking to see if the jet in question is assigned to that air base. I got shot at once because the registry I was wearing was of a jet posted elsewhere. That's why I could not take you to refuel this morning; had they shot at me, you could have been in danger, Even if I _do_ succeed in managing to disguise myself successfully, I can only use that registry once, plus they've grown wise to the changing-registry stuff. They only half-fill our tanks now, rather than fully-fill."

"Well…..now you have him back, try honesty and hard work along with Frenzy's skills to do what you want," Sam said.  
"What do you mean?" said Starscream.

"Get Frenzy to hack into military computers - he's done that before, he can do it again - but not to _take_ information, but to put it _in_ ," Sam said. "Have it pre-prepared so he can get in, plant it and get out, and with luck, be undetected. Input a created registry, pilot name, records, and ID, one that all three of you fliers can wear when you go to the base. Share the same holoform design, get rid of your individual colour scheme for the time you are there - I'd suggest, as close as possible to eight-hour shifts so you can all have time to do other things - and maybe if you're not seen to zoom off straight away, maybe they'll start filling your tanks again? Even if you have to do some work for humans, hey, it beats being shot at, doesn't it?"

"You suggest that we _work_ for our fuel? That we work for _humans_?" Starscream said, sounding annoyed, but also contemplative, and not as angry as Sam had worried he would be.

"Fuel is fuel, isn't it? At least it shouldn't be so big a problem for you air types any more. As for the car types, Barricade can fill up at the police pound, maybe come here and have some siphoned off for the others, and also, if he gets money out of the ATM's for the others to carry around, they can fill up their tanks and legally pay – at least their holoforms do – and this way none of you draw unwanted attention to yourselves," Sam explained.

"As a short term solution, it might work. You speak sense, human. Were you Cybertronian, I would invite you to join our forces, you certainly have the convoluted thinking processes of a natural Decepticon," Starscream told him, sounding impressed, Sam fancied.

"Thanks!" Sam said, in as neutral a voice as he could manage, feeling rather insulted although he was sure that Starscream had intended it to be a compliment.  
"I will take you back now," Starscream said, putting Sam up on a rise where he could get into the cockpit – with Starscream's holoform's help – when Starscream was in jet form. Sam climbed in.

"You will have a mix of duties from tomorrow. In the afternoon, you go to the medical bay as usual, but your mornings will be spent with Soundwave," Starscream said.

"Uh…may I ask why?" Sam asked as he strapped the harness on.  
"Yes, you may ask," Starscream said. "You have knowledge of your world and its governments, and of your own species' reactions in certain situations. Soundwave is our tactical officer, and with your knowledge, you would make an excellent assistant tactical officer. Congratulations, Sam, you just got another promotion within our ranks," Starscream paused, then spoke again. "Well, do you have nothing to say?"  
Sam didn't, the information having left him speechless.

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As soon as Bumblebee overheard this information, via the microphone Sam unwittingly carried on his person, he went straight to Optimus with it, who called in Miles, Mikaela and Ratchet. They all listened to the conversation, looking at each other in stunned surprise when they'd heard it.

"Sam's being made a Decepticon tactical officer on the matter of dealing with humans?" asked Ratchet.  
"Ironhide should be told. He should know that the Decepticons may not be as predictable as usual, and also that Sam may be on Starscream's person at times," Optimus said.  
"Who should tell Ironhide? I suppose it should be me, I'm the diplomat," Ratchet said.  
"The person to tell him should be the one who can get him to climb down off the ceiling the fastest," Mikaela said. Miles sniggered, but then Mikaela noticed the confusion evident in the faces of the mechs.  
She spent the next five minutes explaining what she meant.

"Me. I should tell him," said Ratchet when she'd explained.  
He went out to tell Ironhide.  
The yell and cannon blast five minutes later were not entirely unexpected


	11. Blood and Energon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold text is databurst conversation.

From the Bottom Up.

 

Chapter Ten-Blood and Energon.

 

The next day, Sam was taken by Starscream to perform his new duties with Tactical Officer Soundwave, although things got off to a bad start from the beginning for him.

Frenzy was there, which was not initially a problem for Sam. Sam's aid in fixing him and Frenzy reciprocating by helping the doctor after Swindle's attack, had resulted in a guarded friendship of sorts, or at least a civility to each other when they met. So when Starscream lowered Sam to the ground, and Frenzy leaped at Sam, chittering madly and ran a scan over him, Sam was unprepared, especially as whatever Frenzy had said was making Starscream scowl at Sam.

 

"An Autobot transmitting device? Where? How?" Starscream said, as Frenzy's scan stopped on a seam of Sam's Jeans.

It was Soundwave who answered.

"It-is-located-somewhere-on-the-hu-man," Soundwave said. "Frenzy-has-located-it."

Starscream switched his burning gaze to Sam, who cowered back: Starscream looked furious.

"After the way I have tried to make your stay here more comfortable, even given you status"- he began, but was interrupted by Soundwave.

"He-has-no-knowledge-of-it," he said. "Do-not-blame-him."

 

Starscream stopped scowling and the intense glare of his optics receded back to its normal level.

"Did you see this in his mind, Soundwave?" he asked.

"I-did," Soundwave confirmed.

"Very well. I shall obtain a new set of his lower body garments - which is where Frenzy says it is – from his supplies, and once he has changed, I shall dispose of the ones containing the device," Starscream said. He strode back out of the door as Sam remembered to breathe again.

"Now, once-you-have-changed, you-should-tell me-the-idea-you-told Lord-Starscream-yesterday," Soundwave said to Sam.

"Certainly," Sam said, skinning off the Jeans he wore and casting them aside. "That, and a few other ideas I've had."

 

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

As Starscream headed for his quarters to do this, he sent a databurst to Skywarp.

 **Skywarp, go out on patrol, we may have nosy Autobots to deal with. If they are out in force, call me and I'll bring reinforcements. If there are only a few, we need you to subdue one – use whatever force you deem necessary to do so - and bring it back for questioning. You can destroy any that are surplus to our requirements. Go and do it now,** he said.

 **With pleasure, Lord Starscream,** Skywarp databurst back. A few minutes later, Skywarp's engines roared as he blasted up into the sky, then abruptly ceased as he warped to a different location.

 

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Bumblebee had hit the road: although he now knew that not only was Sam alive but likely to remain so, he still wanted to know where he had been taken, just in case Sam's situation took a turn for the worse and he needed rescuing.

He was moving from place to place, gauging the strength and direction of the signal location, using it to triangulate and locate the source. Once he heard that the device had been discovered, he upped his speed: he was running out of time, although he had narrowed the likely location down to two possibilities.

There was no warning before the attack: one moment, the sky was clear, and then the next, the sun was blotted out as Skywarp appeared directly above the Autobot scout. Before Bumblebee could react, Skywarp slapped at Bumblebee so hard that the yellow Camaro flipped over three times before coming to rest, four deep scratches inflicted by Skywarp's claws leaking energon and coolant from one side. Dazed, Bumblebee tried to collect his wits enough to transform and defend himself, but Skywarp didn't give him the chance: a matching set of scratches were gouged in his other side as Skywarp attacked again.

 

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Sam explained in as much detail as he could his ideas on how the Decepticons – both fliers and ground-travelling - could get fuel while drawing as little attention to themselves as possible. Soundwave had suggested some modifications, Sam had given his opinions, and then Sam and Soundwave had together approved of the final ideas.

Sam felt like a bit of a traitor for aiding the Decepticons like this, and suspected that some of his friends - both human and Autobot – might hold the same opinion, but Sam had his reasons. A shortage of essential materials drove people to desperate measures, with humans at least, Sam knew, and Sam was fairly certain that the Decepticons, nonhuman though they be, would be highly unlikely to differ. If he could help them with how to gain fuel, it might avoid a bloodbath. If he advised them of a better way, it might stop the Decepticons possibly attacking a fuel depot in desperation, or stop the Seekers from holding a human city to ransom for aircraft fuel. No, as treacherous as this seemed, it really was a better option. His advice to these nonhuman entities could potentially save human lives.

 

Sam ate something once he had finished, and then Soundwave took him through to the medical bay. Sam reflected that someone else might object to being carried around like this, but he just saw it as an advantage. At ground level, there were sometimes too many big feet around - that could accidentally crush him - for comfort.

Sam had been told that the medic wanted to change his cast for a new one. The initial one had been put on when his arm had been swollen, and as the swelling had now gone down, it was loose on his arm and not keeping his arm as stable as it should be.

Dr Syn took off the cast carefully, using a sharp-bladed metal knife. Dr Syn had told Sam that although they did have laser tools, they were energy-hungry. There were some jobs that could be done equally as well – and sometimes better – by metal blades, and in this fuel crisis, Dr Syn was being called upon to use them in favour of the laser option more and more.

Dr Syn placed the knife down beside Sam on the work table, and used a cylindrical cage to put the stretchy bandage over Sam's arm without pulling or jarring it. He did this, using some plastic strips as splints to keep the arm straight, and was getting the fibreglass bandaging ready for the next cast when the doors opened to admit Starscream and Skywarp.

 

Starscream's arms were full of what at first looked like a twisted and dirty heap of yellow and silver scrap. The Decepticon leader, not noticing Sam, turned to his flying companion.

"Skywarp, I said _subdue_ him, not almost _kill_  him! We need the information he possesses before he dies!" Starscream turned to the doctor. "Fix him, so that he lives long enough to be questioned. If he's too stubborn to give me the information I require, I'll have to call Swindle back,” Starscream said.

Starscream dropped his burden, which hit the floor with a dull clatter. It was then that Sam realised what he had at first thought was scrap was a badly damaged mech, with fluids of two colours oozing from numerous places on its body. With a shock, Sam realised that the mech was his Autobot friend, Bumblebee.

As this realisation hit Sam, combined with what Starscream was saying, Sam jerked back, flinging out his injured arm for support.

Unfortunately, his hand made contact with the blade of the knife Dr Syn had just put down. The part of the bandage around his palm was sliced cleanly through, and Sam gasped as he felt the blade slice into the sensitive flesh of his palm.

 

The gasp reminded Dr Syn that Sam was there, and drew the attention of Starscream and Skywarp. Starscream's optics widened as he realised that Sam had just heard the whole of his exchange with Skywarp and the doctor.

"Sam, I will have to put you on the floor as I need that surface so I can repair the Autobot," Dr Syn said, putting his hands out. Sam climbed into them, and Dr Syn put him down on the floor. It was then Dr Syn saw the red spatters on his own hands, and the spreading red stain on the bandage on Sam's wrist.

"You're bleeding!" he exclaimed.

"It's not serious, help Bumblebee, please!" Sam said. "This can wait!"

"Be careful, do not touch any of the fluids he's leaking. One of them is energon, and it is corrosive enough to harm you," the doctor stated.

"Please save him!" Sam begged the medic. Before Doctor Syn could reply, the other Seeker, Skywarp, spoke up.

 

"Our medic will only be patching up that Autobot so he can survive being interrogated for information, fleshling,” he coldly stated. "You are _Starscream's_ pet now, not the Autobot's and his life is irrelevant, even if our Leader judges yours to be important. If he survives being interrogated, I shall kill him myself. It is a long time since I've pulled the tubes and cabling from an Autobot's mangled frame, a long time since I've squeezed the life out of an Autobot with my own two hands, and watched its optics fade and die as its life ebbs away,” the dark Seeker stated.

"No!" Sam cried, and threw Starscream a pleading gaze, but Starscream wasn't even looking at Sam, and had his optics fixed on Skywarp. Sam was sure his plea was helpless, for although Starscream was pledged to protect Sam, he had nothing to gain from saving Bumblebee.

Unless….

Sam recalled how Barricade had promised not to harm Mikaela as she was planned to be a major part of his future life. Was there any way he could confer a similar status on Bumblebee? He could not, of course, try and convince them that Bumblebee was his future life partner, they were the same gender and different species for a start. An idea came into Sam's head, about something he'd read about and thought of doing with Miles once – until he'd found out that Miles fainted if he saw blood.

 

Before any of the three Decepticons could react, Sam ran over to the stricken Autobot, and pressed the gash on his palm to one of Bumblebee's oozing wounds.

Pain exploded, both at the point of contact and further up his arm as the damaged bones shifted at the pressure. He cried out, his vision swam, and he almost fainted, but managed not to through sheer force of will alone. He had to do this, had to make Bumblebee his blood-brother, because it might save Bumblebee's life. If he fainted now, he'd not get another chance to do this. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Starscream start forwards as if to snatch him away, and saw Doctor Syn put a hand on Starscream's arm to stop him. Dimly, he realised the medic was scanning him. He concentrated on the job at hand.

"My-blood-to your-blood," he managed to get out. "My life-is your-life." He wanted something understandable to the Decepticons, to show how much he cared for Bumblebee, to get the message over to them. He could only think of one thing, something that seemed more Cybertronian, to say.

"My Spark-to your Spark," he managed to gasp out.

 

He was just in time: black spots were beginning to appear in his vision. They did not stop him seeing the optics of all three Decepticons widen, or the strange look Dr Syn was giving him. The black spots in his vision began to join up, and he saw Dr Syn release Starscream's arm and stoop towards him as the faint finally took hold.

As Sam toppled sideways, his hand falling away from the seeping injury to Bumblebee's chest armour, he felt the medic's gentle hands catch him just before oblivion took hold.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

 

Starscream turned furious, burning optics on his wing-brother. Skywarp took a step back from the look in those optics. Starscream was angry, angry at him, although Skywarp had no idea why.

"Skywarp, go and get Headfixer in here now," Starscream ordered. "Dr Syn can't treat them both at once. This is your fault, Skywarp, now do as I say and get out of my sight!"

Skywarp didn't know what he was being blamed for, but he knew that when Starscream was _this_ torqued at him not to try asking, lest he end up clawed.

"Yes, Lord Starscream," he said, and left the room to find Headfixer.

Starscream turned to Dr Syn.

"Did that human just do what I _think_ he did?" Starscream asked the doctor. "Did he just Spark-bond with that Autobot?"

"Spark-bond _and_ energon-bond, Lord Starscream, although I had warned him of the inimical effect it would have on his skin," he said, placing the inert human on another, smaller, work surface. "You do realise that you must now _protect_ the Autobot for the duration of his stay here, now that their lives are linked together in this way?"

 

Starscream swore, quietly and virulently, as he stooped to gently pick up the semi-online Autobot he had dropped so roughly just five minutes earlier, carefully placing him on Dr Syn's table as the medic swept all the clutter off it. Starscream was beginning to regret the day he had, as a young, idealistic, and slightly over-energised scientist, taken that Code to impress his wing-brothers, who, back then, _had_ been impressed.

Dr Syn was correct, Starscream reflected; to keep his human alive, he had to ensure that his Autobot bondmate was also kept alive. Spark-bonding had fallen out of favour when the war started, as the death of a bondmate often meant the death of the bonded partner too. Once bound together, generally two Sparks could not live if separated by the death of one bondmate. Except…

Starscream turned to the medic. "Do humans actually _have_ Sparks?" he asked.

The medic sighed.

"Not usually, Lord Starscream, but this human seems to be an exception. I ran a scan while he initiated the Sparkbond. He doesn't have a Spark as we'd know it, but his organic heart seems to be alive with Spark energy,” The doctor said. "I suspect it has something to do with his contact with the AllSpark."

"This human is full of surprises," said Starscream in confusion.


	12. Till Death Us Do Part.

From the Bottom Up.

Chapter Eleven-Till Death Us Do Part.

"I cannot guarantee, as a result, that the human would survive if the Autobot died," the doctor continued. "Even if I could, you couldn't get round it like that either, Lord Starscream. He declared Sparkbond, his feelings are clear. This means that he intends the Autobot to be a major part of his life, thus you would be Code-bound not to kill the Autobot _anyway_."

Starscream looked down at the yellow and silver mech.

"It seems that you owe Sam your life, Autobot, and due to the nature of Sparkbond, we cannot even interrogate you. It seems to be your lucky day, as the humans might say,” he said. He turned to the medic again.

"What will this Spark-energy do to the human?" he asked.  
"That is unknown,” the doctor said. "It does not seem to be harmful to him, I would surmise that it might make him heal a little faster, and possibly increase his lifespan. I will keep a record of how his arm heals for you."

"Yes, do that. It may even be worth allowing the human to live to his natural lifespan, as a matter of scientific curiosity, of course," Starscream said. The medic nodded, as Headfixer, a bright yellow mech a bit smaller than Dr Syn, came in. Starscream gestured him over.  
"Dr Syn, repair the human and the Autobot, and then let me know," stated Starscream. "I am going for a flight." Starscream exited the med bay, as Headfixer went over and looked at Bumblebee.

"Stabilise him, and make sure he can be repaired, and doesn't deactivate before I can fix him. I will tend to the human," Dr Syn said.  
He stooped to tend to Sam.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo 

Sam cried out as the pain from his hand jolted him back to full consciousness.  
"Steady, Sam, I have to rinse the energon from your injury and make sure it's clean," said the doctor, playing a light stream of water over Sam's cut palm. Sam bit back a retort, tears of pain stinging his eyes.

"Then I shall have to dress the cut, re-splint your arm, and put on a new cast." The doctor gave a brief scowl. "That was a slagging stupid thing to do, Sam, I _told_ you not to touch the energon."  
"Bumblebee…" Sam said, both as explanation and query. He tried to use his good arm to sit up, but Dr Syn splayed his fingers and used his own hand to stop the motion: Sam got the message quickly enough and stayed lying down.

"Headfixer is stabilising him. The sooner you let me get on with healing _you_ , the less time it'll take before I start repairing _him_ properly. He'll need plenty of repairs, which I am more than capable of doing, but my scans indicate that your bondmate is in no imminent danger of dying."

Sam blinked.

"My _what_?" he asked. "Did the blood-brother thing work then?"  
"Amongst Cybertronians, the mixing of life-fluids is called an energon-bond; it is a legal and accepted method of inducting somebody into your family unit. In your case, the fact that the action was painful and potentially damaging to your health, and that you knew that, will earn you respect within our ranks. Interestingly, you seem to be gaining status rapidly,” the medic stated. "However, that alone would not have been sufficient to save Bumblebee's life, after all, being brothers did not stop Megatron from trying to kill Optimus Prime in Mission City," he explained.

"You mean that - but you said you would repair him – but –" stammered Sam.  
"Sam, you have guaranteed Bumblebee's safety, but it is not the energon-bond that has done that, but the _Sparkbonding_ you carried out."

"What Sparkbonding? What _is_ Sparkbonding?" Sam asked, confused. The doctor looked at him.  
"You really don't understand what you've done, do you, Sam?" he asked.  
Sam looked nervously at Doctor Syn. "No, but I think I'd better find out, somehow," Sam said. "Have I done something wrong? If it saved Bumblebee, I'm not sure that I care, though."

"No, Sam, it's nothing wrong, although your actions combined with your words sent a powerful message to all of us,” the doctor assured him. "It is more your _words_ that have saved Bumblebee. 'My life to your life,' you told him, while touching his chest, and in particular, 'My Spark to your Spark.' Sam, that's the closest English translation you could get for the words used by Cybertronians to Sparkbond," Dr Syn told him.

"But what _is_ Sparkbond?" asked Sam. "What does it mean?"  
"It is difficult to explain, I don't think there is an equivalent. The nearest English language equivalent – although Sparkbond is both much more and much less than this – is 'marriage', Sam."  
"Hey,hey hey!" Sam said. "Are you saying that I _married_ Bumblebee?" He paused. "How will I explain _that_ to Mikaela?" he thought out loud.

"Let me sit you up and I'll explain, Sam," said Dr Syn, who had finished rinsing Sam's hand and was now preparing the tubular bandage again. He turned, helping Sam to sit upright.

"Sparkbonding is not the same as a human marriage, Sam, because on Earth, marriage evolved for the purpose of bearing children. However, amongst our kind, to sparkbond was a sign of _any_ form of deep commitment. We used to Sparkbond with long-term romantic partners, with very close friends, with those we cared about in other ways. There is no limit to the amount of bondmates you can have, but it is not undertaken lightly, for if a primary bondmate dies, so do the bondmates he or she has," The doctor said.

"Primary bondmate?" asked Sam.  
"Someone who has two or more bondmates who are not bonded to one or more other people. For example, if I had Sparkbonded with six people, if I died, and those others had no other bondmates, the shock of the bond's breaking would kill them. However, if one of _them_ died, although it would be painful, I would have the bonds of the other five to sustain me, so it would be unlikely that I would die,” Dr Syn shuttered his optics briefly, and then carried on speaking.

"As far as I know, you and Bumblebee do not have any others you are Sparkbonded with, so if one of you were to die, so would the other," Dr Syn gave a sad smile. "For obvious reasons, once the war began, Sparkbonding fell out of favour. Most people choose a declaration of being a Sparkmate, which now carries the same intent, but not the problem of your bondmates dying if you do," he said.

"But – I'm human, I don't _have_ a Spark,” Sam said, as Dr Syn smoothly encased his arm in the tubular bandage.  
"Ah, but Sam, it seems that your contact with the AllSpark – possibly a feedback when you held it in Megatron's chest – seems to have imbued your heart with Spark energy. Although not a Spark in the classic sense, I cannot say that you would _not_ die if Bumblebee died, and Starscream will not wish to take that risk. This means that for the duration of his stay in the Base, Starscream must ensure Bumblebee's safety as well as yours. That means that to uphold the Code, Starscream must protect both you _and_ Bumblebee. That is why I shall start repairs on him once I'm finished with you," he said, wrapping the fibreglass bandage around Sam's arm.

At that moment, Headfixer spoke up.  
"I have stabilised the Autobot, he can be repaired when you are ready," Dr Syn nodded.  
"Thank you. You may wish to check Dead End's processors, he's still going on about the scrap heap," Dr Syn said.  
"I checked them this morning. He's fine, just being his usual pessimistic self, there's nothing wrong with his coding that a little tweaking won't put right. He'll be okay, as usual,” Headfixer said.

"In other words, because it's not life-threatening, you can't do the tweaking without his permission, which we both know he won't give. We'll just keep an optic open to make sure it doesn't get any worse then, shall we?" Dr Syn asked. Headfixer nodded once, and headed out of the med bay.

"Wait here, Sam, I'll be back in a minute," Dr Syn said, heading to his store cupboard. Sam watched Bumblebee anxiously while Dr Syn was away, which was for more like ten minutes. The medic returned with a human-sized glass of what appeared to be orange juice.  
"Drink this, Sam, you've had a shock, both physical and emotional, and need the fluid." He handed it to Sam, who drank it down without really tasting it, his eyes still locked on Bumblebee's offlined form.  
"Can I help you repair Bumblebee?" he asked. The medic shook his head.  
"No, sorry, there's too much energon at the moment. If you're still up to it once I've cleaned him up, then you can help,” he said.

Sam nodded, watching as Dr Syn wiped Bumblebee down carefully with what looked suspiciously like Army-issue blankets, and carefully sealed shut leaking energon, coolant, and fuel lines.  
Sam could feel his head getting heavier and heavier, and he couldn't seem to keep his eyelids open. Despite his best efforts, he had the overwhelming urge to do nothing but sleep. This could not just be the shock, he reflected, as he slumped slowly to one side. As he finally allowed the sleep to overtake him, he wondered just what the doctor had put in that drink.

Once the human was asleep, Dr Syn turned back to Bumblebee, and got on with his work.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Sam awoke to find himself lying curled up on his right side on a hard but warm metallic surface, with a slight curvature. Another hard surface gently lay over him, not pressing down but just hovering lightly atop him. He opened his eyes, and realised that he was lying atop Bumblebee's chest, and one of Bumblebee's big yellow and silver hands was protectively cupped over his body. Sam guessed that the warmth beneath him was from the mech's spark, which lay a foot or two beneath him deep in Bumblebee's chest.

As Sam stirred, his Autobot friend raised his own head to look down at Sam, blue optics glowing softly.  
"Thank you, Sam, the medic here explained about what you did for me. He finished his first round of repairs about half an hour ago. He says there is still much work to be done, but that what he has done will suffice for now, and that he will do more after I've had a chance to recharge." He paused, then resumed speaking.  
"Sam, you saved my life with your actions, but you did not need to harm yourself to do so. Why didn't you announce me as your Sparkmate? That in itself would have forced Starscream to permit me to keep on living, bound by the Code as he is."

"I didn't know, for a start,” Sam admitted. "For another thing, we're the same gender and different species. They'd never have bought it, Bumblebee."  
Bumblebee fell quiet for the three seconds it took for him to look up the slang on the internet.

"Sam, our people have different ways. Reproduction was not the prime motivator for us to bond, not like with humans. Dr Syn told you that it was like a marriage with no limit on the amount of partners, but did he not also mention that marriage was an inadequate word for it as there was no human equivalent?"  
"Yes, he did,” Sam recalled.

"A more accurate term for it might be 'soul mate', which can have romantic and close-friend connotations the same as 'Sparkmate' can, although we are bondmates, which is a whole new level of connection completely. As for gender and species, again because bonding has nothing to do with reproduction, it's not an issue, Sam. So you see, they would have 'bought it' as you put it, Sam."

"They did,” said the Decepticon medic from behind Sam, making him jump. He craned his head around to look at Dr Syn.  
"Starscream went off for a flight last night from which he has not yet returned, and the other Decepticons have been told that Bumblebee must not be harmed, or they'll have Starscream or Soundwave to deal with."   
The medic addressed Bumblebee next.  
"Bumblebee, you need to recharge. Now that both you and your bondmate have been able to assess that you are both well, will you come with me to the recharge berths now?"

"Yes, doctor," Bumblebee said meekly, helping Sam down off his chest. Sam stood back as Dr Syn first helped him stand up, then steadied him as he slid off the work table.  
"Sam," the medic addressed him again: Sam turned to face him. "As Starscream is absent, and Soundwave has said he does not need you for today, perhaps you could aid me in taking inventory?"  
' _Boring_!' was Sam's first thought about that, but out loud he said "Yes, Dr Syn." Dr Syn nodded once, then took Bumblebee by the upper arm, and led him towards the back of the med bay. Sam recalled that Dr Syn had mentioned that there were recharge facilities back there.

The medic and Bumblebee had been gone no longer than five minutes when somebody else walked into the med bay. Sam looked up, and paled as his stomach clenched with tension.

It was Skywarp. He was standing straight, striding his way over towards Sam, the gaze of his burning optics locked on Sam.  
Sam couldn't help but notice that Skywarp looked angry.

"I don't know why our Leader wants you kept alive, considering the trouble you've brought us. You destroyed the AllSpark, helped foil our plans, yet he permits you to _live_?" Skywarp said.  
Sam felt a pang of guilt over the destruction of the AllSpark, but he pushed it back: he could not show weakness before this Decepticon.

"You robbed me of my rightful kill, fleshling," Skywarp stated. "Remember this: some of the others are beginning to get used to you, but I only tolerate you because my wing-brother thinks that your worthless life should be preserved for some unfathomable reason."  
Sam sighed: he had only just woken up, and he had to put up with this miserable Seeker moaning about being 'robbed' of his 'right' to kill Bumblebee. "I do not need this," he muttered half-under his breath.  
"What was that, fleshling?" snapped Skywarp.

Sam had had enough of the flier's high-and-mighty attitude. Any thoughts of being diplomatic were banished as Sam's anger got the better of him.  
"I said that I don't need this," Sam repeated, this time loud enough for Skywarp to hear. "Look, Bumblebee and I are bondmates, you can't kill him without risking killing me, and Starscream wants me alive, for reasons he doesn't see fit to disclose to _you_. So why don't you just get over yourself, get used to the idea and _cope_ , alright?" he said.

Skywarp's optics flashed dangerously, and Sam was abruptly reminded of the incident at the lake with Trent, where only Mikaela's intervention had prevented Trent from pulverising him. Sam swallowed but stood his ground as Skywarp took a step towards him.

"You dare to give me insult, squishy? Nobody insults Skywarp without incident. Understand this: you have been given a rank, making you one of our own. We have ways of settling disputes and insults among our own, which are ours by right, and I invoke that right of redress now."

Skywarp took another step towards Sam, and fixed his gaze, drawing Sam's own gaze. Eyes and optics locked.  
"Assistant Tactical Officer Samuel, I challenge you to a duel."


	13. The Birth Of Swiftstrike.

From The Bottom Up.

Chapter Twelve: The Birth Of Swiftstrike.

 

Sam felt the colour drain from his face, and his stomach turned over. He began wishing he wasn't so quick to come up with a sarcastic answer when pushed by bullies like Trent and Skywarp.

Trent had a good six to eight inches on him both broadside and heightwise, and was a good few pounds heavier, most of it muscle, and that was bad enough, but this flier has six times his height and massed several _tons_ greater than he. In a duel, Sam reasoned, the most he could do was dodge. When he got tired, all Skywarp had to do was step on him to do him in. He was about to try using his mouth to apologise and hopefully mollify the annoyed flier, and remind him that Starscream wanted him alive, when a voice from behind him spoke.

 

"No, Skywarp, if Starscream was here, you know he would never allow it," Dr Syn said from behind him. Sam began breathing again.

"Is he not one of us? If he _is_ one of us, it is my right to challenge him. Or is everything, his being a medic and Soundwave's Assistant Tactical Officer, just words, with no meaning? If so, then he is no more than he was when he arrived here – a snivelling, cowardly, fleshy brat of a pet. If so, then he still lacks discipline, which _I_ will be happy to provide in Starscream's absence. I can inflict pain without damage as well as he can."

Sam had thought things could not get much worse, but Skywarp's little speech had proved how wrong he could be.

"You give _me_ insult with those words, Skywarp,” he said "I accept your challenge," he stated. At least in a duel he had a chance to defend himself.

"No," the doctor stated again. "Humans are too fragile."

"You heard him," Skywarp sneered. "He accepted as one equal to another. You cannot go against the choice he made."

The doctor sighed.

 

"Very well, but as you know, Skywarp, any duel must be _fair_ , or it dishonours the one who has the unfair advantage," the doctor said. The look he gave Sam made him cringe: it was obvious that Dr Syn thought Sam has made a rash, uninformed, and impulsive decision – which, Sam had to admit, he had.

"Very well, medic, suggest your modifications," Skywarp said.

"Firstly, this will not be a duel to the death, nor must it be a duel to the near-death," Dr Syn said. "For a start, the so–called 'insult' you both feel you have been given is nowhere near enough reason for such drastic action – and don't look so rebellious, Skywarp, it's partly for your sake I'm stipulating this. Starscream has repeatedly stated and demonstrated – or have you forgotten Swindle's punishment already – that the human is not to be killed or seriously harmed. If you do kill him, or injure him so severely that he is crippled or dies, you know that, wing-brother or not, Starscream will have your aft and your wings for it! He does _not_ take disobedience of his orders lightly."

Skywarp considered this, and nodded. "Agreed," he said sulkily. "It will not be a duel to the death, nor will undue force be used." He grinned suddenly, not a nice expression as his optics found Sam again. "As long as I pin him to the floor with one hand or foot, or hold him in my hands so he cannot fight for the requisite fifteen seconds, I win."

" _Not_ your _foot_ , Skywarp!" the doctor said. "It's too easy to misjudge the force you're putting on him, these humans are fragile!"

 

"Oh, okay,” Said Skywarp. "You're taking all the fun out of it."

"If I was going to be strict, I'd make you fight using your holoform, but it's even easier to misjudge the force you use with that," said Dr Syn. The medic continued talking.

"Secondly, as Sam has no in-built energy weapons, I shall provide him with one," Dr Syn said. "I have several instruments he could hold."

"To make _that_ one fair, you will have to allow me to use one of my own energy weapons," Skywarp stated.

"Very well," said Dr Syn. "I would suggest one of your arm blasters. However, you must turn it to the narrowest focus – as Sam's weapon will, due to his small size, be a narrow-beam instrument – and be set to light stun only. That is more than sufficient to knock a human out for the requisite time if you hit Sam with it," the medic told him.

 

Skywarp nodded his agreement.

"That is fair," he said. "This should be a quick fight,” he gloated. "I could defeat one of these fleshies with one arm deactivated."

"I'm glad you mentioned that, Skywarp, because that is another modification I must insist upon," The doctor said.

Skywarp scowled.

"That's not _fair_!" he protested.

"It _is_ fair," The doctor stated. "Sam is unable to use one of his arms for little other than balance. If I immobilise your elbow and wrist joints, and lock them in a bent position, you and Sam will have an equal disability. You already have a tougher hide and a far greater height than he. Unless we even the odds a little, there is no way it can be seen as a fair fight, Skywarp, and you will _lose_ prestige amongst those with a sense of honour. Are you willing to do that?"

"No," said Skywarp, realising the doctor had a point. He was already disliked amongst his own ranks: he did not need to be dishonoured as well.

"Lastly, Skywarp, the same condition as with any other combatants: no using special abilities not possessed by the other. In other words, _no warping,_ " said Dr Syn.

"I never get to warp in a duel," said Skywarp. "That rule takes half the fun out of it," he groused.

"That's because it has to be a _fair_ fight, remember?" asked the doctor. "If someone else who can warp – or has an equivalent skill, like going invisible – enters our ranks, you can with them, but until then, to be fair, you cannot do it."

"All right, I agree," said Skywarp.

 

"Another two things to remember while duelling, Skywarp: be careful where you put your feet, and whatever the outcome of the duel, the matter of insult is _over_ : it is _settled_." He moved his gaze to where Sam stood. "That last applies to you as well, Sam," he said.

"Agreed," Skywarp said. Sam realised both sets of red optics were now looking at him.

"Yeah, that's cool – that is, agreed," Sam said, realising that the slang might be confusing.

"Very well. Wait here, Skywarp while I find Sam a suitable weapon," the medic said, picking up Sam and walking to his store area with him.

In the store cupboard, the doctor took out his hand-held microlaser kit and indicated it to Sam.

"These are the smallest laser scalpels I have: pick one you can hold in one hand," he said.

Sam moved over, testing how well he could grip them. He found one he could comfortably hold in one hand, it was thin enough to fit in one hand, and very light; the doctor pointed out the on switch on the handle.

 

"That's a good one, Sam: squeeze on the switch to turn it on, if you drop it, the switch will go back up and cut it off automatically; there is less chance of injuring yourself. Do be careful: it can cut through the toughest hide in seconds, it would have no trouble with organic flesh and bone. You wouldn't bleed to death, it would cauterise the wound, but it would still hurt," the medic cautioned.

 

Sam squeezed on the switch, and a thin red beam about two metres long sprang from the handle with a hum. There was no change in the weight or handling of the implement as Sam cautiously moved it around in a slow arc. Moving it quickly made no difference either: the thin beam stayed as solid-looking as ever.

 _'Very Star Wars, but I'm certainly no Jedi. I'll have to do my best,'_ Sam thought to himself, letting his fingers slide off the switch. The red beam disappeared.

 

The doctor crouched to be closer to Sam.

"Look, Sam, I can't give you much advice because it would be unfair, but I can say this: use your strengths,” he advised. "You are fast and intelligent, and Skywarp knows you as little as you know him. Don't underestimate him, it is to your advantage that he is underestimating you. Look for any weaknesses and exploit them, for he will not hesitate to do likewise, and don't be scared to hurt him. He can be repaired far easier than you can, and I can't think of any lethal damage you could do with that little thing, considering the size of Skywarp. If you can get him immobilised or unable to attack for fifteen seconds, you win.”

Sam nodded his understanding: the doctor was trying to help him while keeping the duel fair and sticking to the rules. It was good advice that he would try to implement.

The medic carried Sam back through, putting him back on the worktable.

 

"Now, Skywarp, your left arm please, so I can immobilise the wrist and elbow," said the medic.

"Wait a mo," Sam said. "Why, specifically, his left arm? What if he's a southpaw?"

The doctor stopped, and both he and the Seeker turned confused optics on him.

"Southpaw?" asked the doctor.

"Left-handed," Sam translated. "We humans usually favour one hand. I'm right-handed, so my best hand is free to use. What if Skywarp's best hand is his left? Wouldn't that be unfair? Or is that not the case with Cybertronians?" Sam asked.

"Not usually, human, but as it turns out, I prefer using my left arm for firing or grabbing," Skywarp said.

"Then I shall disable the joints in your _right_ arm," The doctor said. "That's very honest of you, Sam."

Sam shrugged. "Fair's fair, right?" He could have sworn that Skywarp gave him a grudging look of respect as the doctor began work on his right wrist.

 

Once the medic had finished, Skywarp send a databurst to everyone else, telling them of his duel with the Assistant Tactical Officer, that it was a matter of insult on both sides, and setting out the conditions imposed by the medic to make the fight fair.

They assembled in the main warehouse, and everyone seemed to be there except Starscream, who had still not returned from his flight. Sam heard one voice saying "Considering the size difference, it doesn't _seem_ very fair." He scanned the crowd, but could not identify the speaker.

"Frenzy-is-small. He-has-defeated-larger-than-Sky-warp. Size-is-not-necessarily-an–issue," Soundwave replied to the speaker.

 

As the watchers formed the customary circle, the two combatants backed apart, and eyed each other from opposite sides. Dr Syn gave the order to start. Sam tensed, deciding to let Skywarp make the first move, so Sam could defend himself appropriately, although he'd have to be careful not to allow Skywarp to manoeuvre him into a position of disadvantage.

Skywarp sprang forwards, and Sam moved to his left, hoping to keep on the side of Skywarp's paralysed arm. This wasn't much help, Sam realised, as Skywarp pivoted through one hundred and eighty degrees on one foot, and brought his energy blaster to bear: Sam barely avoided it by running and rolling, curling his injured arm close to his chest. He dodged and ran, putting to equally good use the tactics that had served him so well in Mission City, looking for weaknesses. Sam knew that one of his own weaknesses would be a matter of endurance; he could only keep this sort of activity up for a limited time. He had to find a weakness he could exploit fast, to be in with any chance of winning.

It wasn't an easy job, while having to avoid the energy cannon and a grasping hand, but Sam suddenly saw a weakness that, had he even been Bumblebee-sized, he might have missed. 

 

He feinted to one side, a tactic he had been careful not to over-use, and, as he had planned, Skywarp twisted and stooped one way as Sam quickly ran the other, giving him a few important seconds of time. As he reached the back of Skywarp's right ankle, he activated the scalpel and used the strongest one-armed swing he could to swing the beam at the exposed wires and cables of Skywarp's left ankle. The beam sliced through them with ease.

 

The effect was immediate; Skywarp cried out and almost toppled over, managing to steady himself with his left hand. The left foot was obviously useless; as Skywarp stood again he was resting his weight on his right foot, the left was hanging limply. As Sam had hoped, the laser scalpel _had_ cauterised the Seeker’s tubing as it had sliced; Sam didn't want Skywarp to ‘bleed’ to death either.

Sam did not stop to savour his success, but dodged around to avoid the laser cannon that Skywarp was now solely using. Dodging and running around to Skywarp's other ankle, he knew he would soon begin to flag. Much as he disliked hurting others, he could see no other way of winning. This would be dangerous to him as well, but he was confident that he could summon up one last burst of energy as needed. Sam ran around again to confuse Skywarp before approaching from his back and swinging at the exposed workings of the right ankle.

Skywarp cried out as he suddenly toppled backwards, and Sam darted off to the side to avoid the falling mech. Skywarp landed with an earth-shaking thud, but he wasn't done yet. His optics sought the fleeing human, and his left hand flailed for Sam, who only just avoided being grabbed. He did an abrupt about-face and ran for the back of Skywarp's hand, ramming the laser scalpel into the wrist plating and pulling. The flailing of Skywarp's arm made him lose his grip and he fell off backwards, but as he got back up, he saw that the weapon had done what it was meant to; Skywarp could only move the last two fingers of that hand.

Sam skirted around Skywarp's hand. The laser scalpel had turned off when he had let go of it, and the flailing hand knocked it to one side where Sam picked it up. He headed towards Skywarp again, allowing the hand to scoop him up, the last two functioning fingers tightening painfully around his legs. He cried out but otherwise did not react to the pain, leaning forwards from the hips to once again attack the back of Skywarp's wrist with the laser cutter. He rammed it in, not liking what he was doing but doing it anyway. ' _This is for Bumblebee!_ ' he thought as he pulled back on the handle. With another cry, Skywarp's grip on him slackened and Sam fell back. 

He scrambled to his feet, backing out of Skywarp's reach and making sure he was out of the arc of his laser cannon as a hush fell over the circle, which had earlier echoed with a slight hubbub, and even a couple of whispered bets. As Skywarp was on his back, his wings prevented him rolling over onto his front. Sam quietly counted to fifteen, recalling Skywarp's comment about how long an opponent had to be unable to fight for.

 

"What is going _on_ here?"

 

The silence was abruptly broken as Starscream, back from his flight, strode over, looking over the heads of Dead End and Headfixer.

"Skywarp-claimed-insult-against-the-Assistant-Tactical-Officer. They-agreed-to-a-non-lethal-duel-to-settle-the-matter. The-Assistant-Tactical-Officer-has-won," said Soundwave.

 

Barricade turned to Dead End.

"Okay, you bet me a shift that Sam would lose. I _told_ you not to underestimate the human. You can do my patrol tomorrow."

 

Starscream pushed the two aside and walked over to his helpless wing-brother.

"How _dare_ you, Skywarp!" Starscream said. "You know the human is to be put in no danger!"

Sam spoke up at that point.

"Hang on, Starscream, we had an agreement," Sam said. "We duelled, a non-lethal duel, with rules set out by Dr Syn that we both agreed to, to make it fair, and as safe as possible. Don't punish Skywarp when he not only accepted conditions that we both agreed to, but when I also cried insult on _him_. I guess I could have refused, but that would have reduced my status in his eyes back to a pet. That way, he says, he could 'discipline me'. At least this way, I could keep some status and face only the humiliation of losing if I lost."

He too approached Skywarp, who had stopped struggling to rise.

"It's settled now, there'll be no recriminations, right, Skywarp?" he asked.

"It is settled, human, though I would suggest that as one of our officers, temporary though the post may be, you address my wing-brother there with the prefix 'Leader' or 'Lord.' We do not want anyone _else_ \- or even our Lord Starscream _himself_ – crying insult over the lack of a suitable title now you have shown your prowess at duelling," Skywarp smiled to show that the comment was not meant unkindly.

"Agreed, the matter is settled now, but I cannot allow anyone else to duel with the human. He is already damaged and as a fleshy, he is too fragile to take further risks with. No more duelling with the human," Starscream ordered.

"Don't think I'd _want_ to duel with the human anyway," said Wreckage to Headfixer, who was stood beside him. "He's so fast, and dangerous with that thing!" Headfixer nodded agreement.

"Me neither,” said Dead End. "I don't want to end up on the scrapheap sooner than I otherwise will, and if I fought with him, I probably would!"

 

Wreckage turned to Headfixer, and said something in Cybertronian. Headfixer responded in kind, and then Dead End repeated the same phrase. Everyone around him began speaking in Cybertronian, and after a few seconds, Sam recognized a pattern: the Decepticons were chanting, the same sound repeated over and over again. Sam saw Starscream, and even Skywarp, smile, and join in with the (by now) almost deafening chant. Every optic was looking directly at him.

"Uh – what's going on?" he asked. He began to wonder if he'd done something wrong, committed some unbeknownst to him cultural gaffe or taboo, and was about to get lynched. In Sam's experience, limited though it was, chanting crowds generally meant _trouble_. He remembered all too well being chased by a chanting mob of Trent's goons not so very long ago.

Starscream walked over to the nervous human and picked him up.

 

"Well, it seems, Assistant Tactical Officer, that you have impressed them. They all agree that you've earned a name."

"You _what_?" asked Sam, confused. Starscream didn't answer, but hoisted Sam up in his hands, turning to face the crowd who had gathered into one group now the duel was over. He held Sam aloft above his own head. The chanting died down.

"I declare this duel to be over!" cried Starscream in a voice that echoed around the warehouse.

"The winner is Assistant Tactical Officer – _Swiftstrike!”_


	14. What’s In A Name?

From The Bottom Up.

Chapter 13: What's In A Name?

 

As Starscream finished his announcement, the room erupted in a racket of Cybertronian yells, foot-stamping and chatter. Starscream, lowering his hands and the human in them to chest-height, turned to Dr Syn.

"I was not idle while flying; I was trying out Swiftstrike's idea. If you would take Swiftstrike back to the medical bay, Thundercracker and I shall bring Skywarp to be repaired," he said. Dr Syn put his hands out, and Starscream carefully placed Sam in them. Sam saw Starscream and Thundercracker head towards the downed Skywarp, stooping to slide their arms under his shoulders and aft. Then Dr Syn turned, blocking Sam's view of the fliers, to take him back to the medical bay.

 

"Hang on to the laser scalpel for now, Swiftstrike, it may make anyone else thinking of acting against you think twice." When Sam looked at him in surprise, Dr Syn spoke again.

"Just because you have earned their _respect_ doesn't mean you have earned their _friendship_ , in fact some may now have elevated your status from 'nuisance' to 'threat.' Be aware of that."

Sam nodded his understanding, putting the handle of the scalpel through his belt after finding and using the safety catch to stop the button being depressed by accident: he had no desire to lose a foot or leg through carelessness.

"What's with calling me 'Swiftstrike' all of a sudden?" asked Sam.

 

Dr Syn looked at Sam in what Sam could tell was genuine puzzlement.

"Is not 'Samuel' the name your parental units gave to you? It doesn't _sound_ like an earned name."

"Uh, yeah, but what do you mean 'earned name?'" Sam asked.

"Then 'Samuel' is your Sparkling name, the first name you receive. It often is based on appearance of the Sparkling body, such as main colour, or named after a certain person, or related to things such as satellites, suns, stars or elements, and sometimes they have no meaning, but are just sounds. There is no dishonour in living the whole of your life under your Sparkling name, but it is often that people earn another name, due to an action they have undertaken, or circumstances that occur around them. When a name is given to you, it replaces your Sparkling name," Dr Syn said.

"You mean you have to accept a name you are given? Is it an honour thing?" Sam asked.

"It is a custom, Swiftstrike, that an earned name takes precedence over the Sparkling name. The event can be good or bad, but custom dictates that the person take it. Your prowess with the scalpel I gave you means you have earned the name Swiftstrike. Everybody here will call you it, and it is likely that the Autobots will call you that also once they find out you've earned it."

 

"What if someone earns more than one name? That could get confusing, and easy to lose touch if someone changes their names, say, twice or more in a lifetime," Sam said.

"Comm signals are based on unique frequencies and harmonics," Dr Syn said. "If you have someone's comm signal, no matter how often their name changes, the comm signal is the same. Also, one earned name does not take precedence over another earned name. The named one can choose which earned name they want to use."

"What about you? You said Syn is a shortening of your alt-form name," Sam said. "How does that work?"

"Sparkling names and self-chosen names have equal status, none is more important than the other. As I have no earned name, and my Sparkling name has no English translation, I chose to be called Dr Syn."

"What about Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker's?" Sam asked as Dr Syn walked into the med bay and put him on a surface to one side.

"Starscream's is complicated, he earned it twice, once for a bad reason, and again for a good one, and it is up to him if he tells you how, Skywarp earned his when he gained his special ability, and Thundercracker….well, maybe he'll tell you himself," said Dr Syn.

 

Thundercracker and Starscream had come in, carrying the hamstrung Skywarp between them. Dr Syn indicated his biggest worksurface, and they lay him down on it.

"Thundercracker, perhaps you would let Swiftstrike here know how you earned your name?" Dr Syn asked. The blue flyer turned to Sam with a slightly aloof air.

"It goes back to my time at the Academy," he said. "I entered a contest organised by one of the lecturers. It was to see who could produce the loudest emissions from their tailpipes."

Sam stared.

"You entered…a _farting contest?_ A _lecturer_ organised it?" he asked.

"Most of the lecturers entered it too," Thundercracker said, seeming confused at Sam's astonishment. Sam tried to imagine his school teachers entering a farting contest, and failed.

"And?" asked Sam, grinning widely in spite of himself.

"I won," Thundercracker said. "That's when I got named, and as far as I know, my record is still unbroken." He then turned and left without a word.

 

"Don't worry about Thundercracker's attitude. He's like that with all non-fliers. If you can't fly, he couldn't care less about you." Dr Syn smiled. "Of course, his attitude towards me turns respectful if he needs fixing." As Starscream turned and exited the med bay too, Dr Syn said "You spend a little time with Bumblebee, Swiftstrike, while I repair Skywarp's ankles and left wrist." The medic picked Sam up again, taking him over to where the little yellow scout lay on a smaller work table.

Sam sat with his Autobot friend for a while, telling him all about the duel and how it had happened. Bumblebee seemed quite awed.

 

"Wow. Swiftstrike. Quite a name you've earned there. It'll be odd to get used to calling you that."

"Well, you don't have to, plain old 'Sam' is Ok with me." He said.

"Our custom is to use an earned name, but….if you prefer Sam, I will break that custom. There is no penalty for doing so, but some may think I was insulting you by still using your sparkling name." Bumblebee said.

Sam swallowed: he now knew that in the Decepticon base, giving insult could lead to fights.

"Perhaps it would be wise, while we are here, that you adhere to custom, Bee," Sam suggested. Bumblebee nodded his agreement.

 

Afterwards, Sam ate, and had a wash, and changed his clothes, washing his old ones in the big sink he used for washing himself. After hanging them up to dry, he went back through to find Skywarp waiting for him.

"Lord Starscream has informed me now _why_ you must not be harmed, and as his wing-brother, I will abide by his decision to adhere to the Code. Come, Swiftstrike, I wish to stretch my wings, and you may come with me, if you wish. I am informed that neither Soundwave nor Dr Syn requires your presence here today."

"Yeah, okay," Sam said. He had enjoyed his earlier flight with Starscream, and was eager to repeat the experience. Skywarp nodded to the doctor, who picked Sam up, and followed the Seeker out of the medical bay and outside to the makeshift runway. Skywarp transformed, lifting his canopy so Dr Syn could carefully place Sam inside. Once he had done so, Skywarp shut his canopy again. As Skywarp accelerated and took off, Sam felt the G forces push him back into the pilot's seat, and then the pressure eased as Skywarp dropped down to a fairly slow cruising speed.

 

Once again, as with Starscream, Sam knew better than to place his hands on any of the controls, so he allowed his hands to fold in his lap, and relaxed to enjoy the flight. Skywarp climbed, not so high that Sam felt faint, but high enough that Tranquility was just a smudge on the ground and he could see the lands around for miles. Sam enjoyed the view, and then, absently, ran the tips of his fingers down the area of the cockpit that displayed various readings such as altitude, speed, and fuel consumption, noting that Skywarp's fuel gauge showed as more than half empty.

"Don't do that!" Skywarp suddenly snapped, and Sam pulled his hand away as if it had been burned, wondering what he had done wrong.

"It tickles and it's distracting, and the last thing I need while in flight is distractions!" the flier explained.

"Oops, sorry," Sam said, folding his hands back into his lap.

Skywarp realised he'd been rather sharp with the human, and his voice was softer the next time he spoke.

"Let me show you something, Swiftstrike," Skywarp said. "Shutter your optics and hold on to the seat."

 

Translating the Cybertronian terms into English in his head, Sam nodded, grabbed the edges of the seat, and shut his eyes, not knowing what to expect.

An odd, slightly disorientating sensation swept over Sam and he gripped the seat harder. Then, just as quickly, the sensation passed.

"You can look now," Skywarp stated. Sam opened his eyes, and could not bite back a gasp.

A moment ago, they had been high up in the sky, following the line of a major highway, which at the height they had been at, had seemed insignificantly small compared to the area around it. Now, they were flying over Tranquility itself, they had somehow descended considerably, for the ground was now so close that Sam could pick out his house, and his school amongst the other buildings of the town. He could even see people in the streets, though not identify them, as they swarmed below like so many ants.

 

"Skywarp, pull up!" Sam cried, his eyes widening in shock as he realised that if they could see the people, the people could almost _certainly_ see Skywarp if they were to look up. "You're flying too low, this is not a normal place for the Military to fly over, you're gonna be _seen_!" he said. "We're supposed to be keeping a low profile, and this is _not_ a low profile!"

"Oops!" said Skywarp. This time, Sam's eyes were open, but the disorientating sensation distracted him from noticing when they reappeared at the height they had been at earlier. Sam was awed when he realised they had just transferred from where they had been to where they now were in the blink of an eye.

"How do you _do_ that?" he asked.

"I have a special warping circuit," Skywarp said. "I can teleport between different locations instantaneously."

"Oh!" Sam said suddenly understanding. "That's your special ability, and how you got your name?"

"Yes," Skywarp confirmed. He paused.

"Would you like another demonstration or two?" he asked.

"Yes please!" replied Sam.

 

Skywarp spent time with Sam teleporting, then said "We'll fly back straight to save fuel, the warping is fuel-intensive, but hopefully that should soon be less of a problem."

Sam looked at Skywarp's fuel gauge and noticed it hovered just a little above empty, and Sam hoped, but didn't say, that he hoped it was enough for Skywarp to get back to the Base.

Sam needn't have worried: Skywarp touched down as gracefully as he had taken off, and Sam saw the doctor hurrying out to assist with getting him down. Dr Syn smiled at Sam, carrying him back through to the med bay and putting him down.

"Sam, I need to talk to you," Dr Syn said, and found he was talking to the empty air as Sam rushed over to the other end. Sighing, Dr Syn followed.

 

"Hey!" Sam cried from ahead of him, and Dr Syn came up and stood behind Sam, who was staring wide-eyed at the work table where he had last seen Bumblebee, but it was now unoccupied. "Where is he?"

He turned to the medic, a mixture of anger and fear showing on his face and audible in his voice.

"Where is he? What happened?" he asked.

" _What have you done with Bumblebee?_ "


	15. Watching And Waiting.

Chapter Fourteen.

Watching And Waiting.

 

36 Hours Previously.

 

When a distress signal was received from Bumblebee, Ratchet and Ironhide were immediately despatched to find him and aid him. They were able to work out where he was from the signal, and by the time the distress signal had been cut off, the co-ordinates it had originated from had been logged.

As he and Ironhide sped as fast as the speed limit and traffic allowed along the highway, Ratchet silently cursed the fact that whereas the Decepticons had three large fliers, the Autobots had precisely none. A flier could have reached Bumblebee's location to render backup or assistance in the time it had taken Ratchet to make sure he had his medical tools and emergency repair kit stowed, link up with Ironhide, convert to vehicle form, and head out of the Base.

 

When they reached the co-ordinates, Ratchet's fears were confirmed. There was plenty of evidence of Bumblebee's presence, in the form of tyre marks, small shreds of exoskeleton and yellow paint, and more energon on the road than Ratchet would have preferred. He got out his holoform with a suction pump-driven mechanism to clear the energon up; he didn't want random humans coming across it and getting harmed. Neither did he fancy having to explain what had been going on to Banachek or Simmons should they find out about this, although there was still a risk of this happening.

Ironhide was gunning his engine in anger: like the rest of the Base he cherished the young scout as he would have cherished his own Sparkling, and the signs all indicated that Bumblebee had been in a serious fight; one he had lost.

"Easy, Ironhide, the fact that Bumblebee is not here means that they must want him alive for something," Ratchet stated. Ironhide, guessing what the 'something' was, growled all the louder.

"The point is, that Bumblebee has been well taught to hold up under interrogation, and that gives us time; time we can put to use in trying to find him," Ratchet said.

 

Of course, that was easier said than done; fifteen minutes later both Ratchet and Ironhide shut down their short-range scanners. There was no trail of waste water or hydrogen from any vehicles leading away, but there was a 'wobble' in the subspace/normal space interface which told them that the culprit had to be Skywarp.

"Next time I see that flier, I’m gonna turn his wings and tail inta confetti!" snarled Ironhide, anger making his regional accent stronger.

Ratchet sighed: without a trail to follow, checking out all the buildings that had not been eliminated was going to be time-consuming. Sending a brief communication back to the Base with a rundown of their findings and what they were going to do, Ratchet turned back to the task.

 

It was three hours later that they got a communication from Jazz.

"Hey, Ratch, Ironhide, call off your search, repeat: call off your search," The saboteur, sounding unusually serious, told them.

"Have you located him?" Ironhide asked.

"No, but Starscream has sent a message stating that Bumblebee's alive, an' will continue to be so, but only if we stop searching for Sam and him," Jazz told him.

Ironhide growled again.

 

"The Decepticons wouldn't know honesty if it jumped up and bit 'em on the aft," he stated. "You _believe_ 'em?" he asked.

"I know they're less than honest when it pleases them, but do you wanna give them an excuse to kill 'Bee?" Jazz asked. "Pull back, guys, Optimus' orders."

"Come on, Ironhide, remember, they likely have him where they have Sam, and if Sam has any say in it, they'll keep Bumblebee alive," Ratchet said.

"But he may not have," Said Ironhide, as they turned back to head back to the Base. "That's what I'm worried about."

 

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As the two gave Optimus their full report, there was a knock on the door. It was Jazz. He came in, and played back to the two the communication they had received.

'The Autobot scout Bumblebee is alive, but I can only guarantee that this will remain the case if you and your Autobots cease prying. The human is also safe."

 

"It was text-based and unsigned, but the authority stated in it, plus the fact that the message origin was mobile and airborne suggests it was Starscream who sent it," Jazz explained.

"I thought it safest to assume that Starscream was being truthful," Optimus finished up. "Your report that Bumblebee is likely to be badly injured, Ratchet, is worrying, but for now we can only wait. We do not wish to do anything to provoke Starscream into harming Bumblebee further, or possibly killing him, so for now we must wait."

"But we can't just do nuffin'!" said Ironhide. Optimus nodded.

"I quite agree, which is why Mirage has been assigned the task of tapping into the Military radar network to look for suspicious planes or flight paths." Noticing Ironhide's concerned glance, he continued.

"We have permission, it was Jazz who suggested contacting Banachek to ask, stating that this way we can clue them in on possible Decepticon activity. We have not told him about Bumblebee's disappearance, although he has already found out about Sam's. He has agreed to hold S-7 –or whatever it's been renamed to hide its continued existence - at bay, at least for now."

"Well, if you'll need me, I'll be in the target range," Ironhide said as he turned to go out of the door. "Blowing up practice drones and pretendin' they're Starscream's head."

 

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It was several hours later that Mirage picked something up. He blinked.

"Hey, Prime, a jet has just appeared on the radar in the sky above a less populated part of Nevada," he said. "I've filtered out the glitches of the human's primitive system, so I think it's probably Skywarp."

"Watch him," Optimus stated.

"He's disappeared!" Mirage stated five minutes later. "No, he's reappeared." His optics opened wide. "Right above Tranquility!"

"Call Ironhide and Ratchet, get ready to mobilise. I don't know what he's up to, but it's unlikely to be anything good for Tranquility's inhabitants," Optimus said.

"No, wait, he's gone again, he's back above the more unpopulated areas,” Mirage said.

"Okay, cancel that last but if he does it again, we're moving out to patrol the Tranquility area," Optimus stated.

Mirage nodded and turned back to monitoring Skywarp.

He was so busy watching Skywarp that he missed the origin point of the other unscheduled plane, didn't even notice it until Jazz said "What's that, Mirage?"

Mirage looked up, letting slip with a Cybertronian word not usually used in polite company when he realised he'd not noticed it.

"Well, it's not on the scheduled flights, and it's….Mirage's optics widened as he worked out its course if it continued in the same direction.

"Heads up, guys, it's incoming!" he stated.

 

Optimus went over to the screen.

"Incoming communication," Jazz suddenly spoke up. "Text based and unsigned." He put it on speakers.

"I believe this is yours," came the message, followed by a string of co-ordinates."

"Prime, scans indicate that it is Starscream, in robot form, and he's carrying something," Mirage said. "No, he's put it on the ground," he corrected a moment later.

"Ratchet, Ironhide, meet me at the gates," said Optimus. He turned to Jazz and Mirage. "Keep monitoring. The co-ordinates given are close by," he said. "The three of us will go and see what he has left us."

Optimus did not say that he had his suspicions, he imagined they all did.

He could only hope that Starscream had kept his word, and was not delivering a lifeless husk.

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Ratchet activated his forwards long-range scanners as they pulled out.

"Let me damp out the signatures in the Base and our own, they are providing too much interference to identify just one,” Ratchet stated. A few minutes later, he spoke again.

"There _is_ a spark-signature at the stared co-ordinates, but there is no sign of movement. Bumblebee may be injured."

A few moments later, they saw the yellow scout lying face-up on the ground. As the area had no human activity, they transformed to robot form and headed for the young scout. Ratchet was there first, green scanner-light playing over the scout's inert form.

"It's okay, he's just been taken offline, said Ratchet, searching for and finding Bumblebee's reset relay. Bumblebee stirred, his optic shutters twitching as his processors rebooted. Then his optics opened as he tried to sit up. Ratchet's restraining hand prevented him from rising.

"Easy, Bumblebee, I want to check you for damage," Ratchet stated.

Bumblebee's optics focused on Optimus.

"I have to give my report!" he stated.

"Do it from down there and I'll debrief you fully when…" Optimus paused as Ratchet shot him a ‘look’ "…When Ratchet discharges you from the medbay," he finished. Ratchet nodded, satisfied.

"But I'm okay!" insisted Bumblebee.

"I'll be the judge of that, scout," Ratchet stated. "You seem fine on the surface, but I want you in for a deep scan and full physical."

Bumblebee looked pleadingly up at Optimus, who shook his head slightly.

"We'll do as Ratchet says," he said. "Now, Bumblebee, did you see Sam?"

"Yes, but it seems he duelled Skywarp and won, earning himself the name Swiftstrike," said Bumblebee. For a moment, Optimus was speechless, then his processors connected with his vocal equipment again.

"Sam duelled Skywarp – and _won_?" he asked. Bumblebee nodded.

"With a broken arm," Bumblebee said. "Apparently Swindle got to him, but Frenzy intervened.

"But he's otherwise safe and well?" Optimus asked. Bumblebee nodded again.

 

"Well, it looks like all we can do is wait and see what happens one way or the other," said Optimus. "Ratchet, you take Bumblebee back and I'll call the Twins to bring in Miles and Mikaela for the debriefing. They'll want to hear it all."

' _As will I myself,_ ' thought Optimus. He wanted to know very much how Sam had defeated Skywarp at _all_ , let alone with a non-functional arm. Not to mention that Frenzy, who had no reason to care for Sam at all, had apparently managed to stop Swindle going any further than he obviously already had gone.

He had a feeling that this was going to be a _very_ interesting debriefing session…


	16. The Debriefing.

From the Bottom Up.

Chapter Fifteen - The Debriefing.

 

Ratchet determined that Bumblebee should take a six-hour recharge, and then carried out a three-hour examination of his systems before he pronounced him fit for duty and allowed him to go to Optimus' office for his debriefing.

When he arrived, Optimus sat him down and gave him some energon from a dispenser on the wall, and then commed Ironhide, Ratchet, the Twins (who would bring the sleepy humans) and Jazz.

"They will all need to be present to hear what you have to report," Optimus told the young scout. At that moment the Twins arrived, carrying Mikaela and Miles. Mikaela, apart from looking a little droopy-eyed and having slightly-mussed hair, looked her usual glamorous self. Miles was yawning, his thatch in complete disarray, and looked like he'd just woken up. Both were still in their pyjamas.

Jazz, Ironhide, and Ratchet all filed in one after the other in short order. The two humans were placed on Optimus' desk, and seated themselves in their two chairs, which seemed to becoming a permanent presence on Optimus' desk, and then the five other Autobots stood beside Optimus' desk, the Twins one side and the other three the other, so they could face Bumblebee. It was Ratchet who spoke first.

 

"Bumblebee, could you appraise me first on Sam's general health. Does he seem well, what injuries does he have?" he said.

Bumblebee stood, addressing his remarks to Ratchet.

"Sam's left arm is broken, the whole arm is in a cast, he told me that their medic plastered it and also strapped up two broken ribs, all caused by Swindle sneaking in to torture him. Sam says Starscream beat him up good for it and he was then sent off to do an ore survey. Sam also has an energon-burn on one hand, caused by touching me when I was injured by Skywarp," he stated. "Otherwise, he said he was getting food and that Starscream was taking him out for exercise, and he was helping out the medic and assisting Soundwave in ways of obtaining fuel for the Decepticons."

 

Ratchet had started growling his engine in anger as Bumblebee related his account of Sam's injuries, but stopped when Bumblebee related how Starscream had punished Swindle for it. As Bumblebee finished up with his account of Sam's duties with Soundwave, Ironhide frowned and said "Now why's he doin' that?"

"He may not have much _choice_ ," said Mikaela. Bumblebee nodded.

"Sam told me that Soundwave let him in on their current fuel situation and that it was pretty dire. Sam said he gave them a non-lethal way that works to avoid their desperation leading to bloodshed."

Ironhide nodded.

"That makes sense," said Ironhide. "I can see where he's comin' from."

"Perhaps you could relate the entire story, from your point of view, Bumblebee," Optimus suggested gently. Bumblebee nodded.

"As you are no doubt aware, I was out trying to narrow down the possible places where the Decepticons have a base, when Skywarp appeared above me and attacked me," Bumblebee began. "He smashed me up so bad that I do not recall the trip back, or many of the details afterwards, but I do recall hearing Sam talking and feeling him touch his hand to my chest. It turns out he was trying to save my life by initiating an energon-bond – not realising that it would make no difference - but sheer chance caused him to use words analogous to those used in a Sparkbonding."

 

There was a moment's silence, until Jazz let out a short laugh, walking over to the yellow scout and giving him a playful push.

"It's about slaggin' time! I wondered how long it would take you to realise you're brothers in Spark!"

"I had my own suspicions about that from the moment that you asked to stay with Sam after Mission City, Bumblebee. However, Sam is still a human, he is organic, so he _has_ no Spark," said Optimus. "So why was your life spared?"

 

"Hang on a moment, what is this Sparkbonding? It sounds serious," Mikaela said.

"Sparkbonding is a process that can involve a great deal of risk, but is a sign of deep attachment between two or more people," Optimus stated. "It is not quite a marriage, but is more than a mere friendship. It is risky because if only two people are in a bond, if one dies, so does the other. As you can imagine, Sparkbonding fell out of favour once the war began. As Sam does not have a Spark, the chances of this happening to him are remote."

"Well, apparently, Starscream didn't want to take that risk, he doesn't know much about humans, and their medic, Dr Syn, could not assure Starscream that killing me would not kill Sam, plus he said Sam has some sort of Spark-energy in his heart,” Bumblebee explained.

Ratchet made a very odd noise, somewhere between a click and a squeak.

"I will have to check for that when he returns. It may be that this is a result of his contact with the AllSpark at the time of its destruction. I would like to monitor this. I digress, however, please continue, Bumblebee," Ratchet stated.

 

"Well, it seems that Skywarp resented Sam's intervention, he had wanted to destroy me personally, something he would have done after I had been interrogated, had Sam not bonded with me, and he came to argue it out with Sam. Sam replied, and I guess he felt that Sam had insulted him with his words and tone of voice, because he challenged Sam to a duel, which Sam accepted."

"Stupid thing to do," Ratchet said.

"Yes, their doctor said much the same thing, but Sam explained that if he were to keep his position, rather than be back to 'pet' status, and thus lose the status he'd gained amongst the other Decepticons, and be punished for his actions, he had to accept," Bumblebee replied. "So he did, claiming insult from Skywarp, and once he'd accepted he could not back out."

 

At that point, Optimus raised a hand to stop the scout's report.

"Yes, Bumblebee, I must ask you to leave nothing out in this report of the duel. I am intrigued to find out _how_ Sam won such a duel against a much larger adversary with no weapons, and being so much a smaller size?"

"Well I didn't actually see it, I was in recharge at the time, but it seems that part of it was down to their medic, and part down to Sam's swift moves and quick brain," Bumblebee said. Before anyone could make further comment, Bumblebee explained what Sam had told him after the event.

 

"So, Sam used his brain and his reflexes to good effect," Optimus said with a chuckle. "I wonder how Skywarp took being defeated by a human?"

"Actually, he took it pretty well, and offered to take Sam out flying," Bumblebee told him. "While he was doing this, it seems, Starscream decided it was the best time to get me back to you."

"So, according to Cybertronian tradition, our human friend's name is now Swiftstrike?" asked Sideswipe. "Good name."

"Well, yes, but to be honest he's much more used to, and prefers to be called, 'Sam'," Bumblebee said.

"He should take the name,” Sunstreaker said. "It's gotta be better than his own short and meaningless name. I'm gonna call him Swiftstrike. After all, it _is_ tradition," Sunstreaker pointed out.

"If we were still on Cybertron, and Sam was electing to stay in _our_ society, I would agree with you," Optimus said, looking at the yellow Lamborghini twin. "However, this is Earth, Sam is a human, it is _us_ who are living on _his_ homeworld. What right then, do we have, to force our traditions on him?" Optimus said. "I shall call him what he wishes to be called."

 

Ironhide nodded.

"He's got a point," he said. Before it could turn into an argument, Optimus held up his hand to forestall any responses from the twins, and continued to speak.

"So, to get back on topic, while Skywarp was giving Sam a flight in the area, Starscream offlined you and brought you back so you were no longer his responsibility?" Optimus asked.

Bumblebee nodded.

"After that, well, I onlined to find you all standing over me," he said. "Unfortunately, nothing I saw while I saw there could help me pinpoint _where_ they are, except that it looked like a big metal building with shelving in it, high enough for the Seekers to stand up in."

"That sounds like it could be either a barn or warehouse," Mikaela said.

"Okay, well that's a start," Optimus said. "Jazz, you and Mirage can start searching for likely locations using the computer and scanners. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, take Mikaela and Miles back to their room to get dressed and get their school clothes on, and take them back to school, as the holidays are over, and then cruise around and be open for communications. Do not approach anywhere you think likely, just note down its co-ordinates. Stay together: do not separate."

 

"Why can't we go?" asked Mikaela crossly.

"Because it is too dangerous. Look at what happened to Bumblebee. I would not want you caught up in something like that," Optimus replied.

"But you'll send the twins into the same risk?" asked Mikaela.

"Hey, don't worry about us," Sideswipe said. "There's two of us. I'm afraid you'd just get in the way."

"Are you somehow immune to attacks from Skywarp?" Mikaela asked sceptically.

"Oh no, not at all!" said Sunstreaker cheerfully as he picked her up. "However, my brother and I know _exactly_ how to deal with annoying Seekers. We have our own special way of dealing with members of the Trine." As Sideswipe picked up Miles, Sunstreaker headed for the door saying "We'll explain how on the way to your home."

 

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After twenty minutes on the road, Miles and Mikaela knew all there was to know about jet-judo without actually trying it out themselves. Mikaela laughed as they described the process. "I DO hope that I am there to see it one day!" she said.

"If we pre-plan one, we'll let you know," said Sideswipe, whom Miles was riding in, preferring a red Lamborghini to a yellow one, no matter how cool they both were; Sunstreaker thought Miles had no taste, but was happy to take Mikaela.

"Why wait for a reason? Wouldn't showing these two our style and technique be reason enough? I'm sure Starscream won't mind helping in the education of this pair," said Sunstreaker. Sideswipe's only reply was a wicked-sounding laugh.

"We'll start planning a demonstration for you two as soon as we can," Sunstreaker promised.

 

As they pulled into the school gates, turning into the parking lot, they cruised past Trent. His 4x4 was dirty and appeared to have sustained a dent from somewhere, and looked tired and old next to the gleaming bodywork of the Twins. Trent spotted the sleek cars out of the corner of his eye, turned to look at them admiringly, then spotted the 'drivers' as the Twins parked up opposite him. His mouth dropped open.

"Where the heck did you two get the money to buy those from?" he asked, trying to look disdainful but failing. His eyes ran covetously over the two Reventons, and his envy was plain in his voice. "First Sam turns up in a junker, and then the very latest model of Camaro, and now you two? You're folks aren't rich, so how did you get them?"

"Sorry, but we can't really tell you," Mikaela told him coolly, as Miles grinned and made a show of draping his arm over Side's back seat. "National Security and all that. Let's just say we gave SecDef Keller a bit of help last summer, and these are part of his thanks,” Mikaela finished.

"What, _you_?" asked Trent disbelievingly. "What skills could a pair of low-lifes like you bring to the Secretary of Defense when he can hire the best of the best from universities and colleges?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Trent, we would tell you, but I'm afraid that you are not cleared to know that," Miles said. Trent snorted.

"Helping the Secretary of Defense indeed!" he said. "A likely story! More likely you _stole_ them, especially with your dad's background, Mikaela!" Trent accused.

 

As Mikaela's face went red, and she prepared a few prime expletives to hurl at the jock, she reached for the glove compartment, and stepped out of Sideswipe, holding her purse. She managed to gain control of herself, opened her purse, and took out the compliments slip they had been sent: she had been told that Maggie had been the one who'd arranged for the thank-you to be sent out. She handed it haughtily to Trent.

"Read, and then shut it!” she said.

Trent unfolded the note. He stared.

"It's on National Security Administration headed paper!" he said, holding it up to the light so he could see the watermark on the paper. "This is un-forgeable!"

"Read it!” Mikaela repeated. He read it out loud.

 

"This is sent to thank Mikaela Banes for the aid she gave in the defense of her country in July 2007!" he stammered out. "Signed, Secretary of Defence John Keller!" He stared. "This is for real!"

"Right first time, jerk!" she said. She snatched it back from his unresisting hand, re-folded it and put it back away in her purse. Leaning in, she whispered to Sunny "Get back to pick us up in six hours, would ya?" He winked the oil light at her in a brief affirmative as she pulled her schoolbag out from the passenger seat: as she shut the door she heard the door lock. Miles got out of Sideswipe, enjoying Trent's drop-jawed stare at them.

"Now, if you don't mind, we have classes to attend!" she said, striding past him with her head up. Miles grinned and struck the same haughty air and walked off behind her, grinning like a loon.


	17. Time to Rock and Roll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breem: A little over 8 minutes. Joor: A little more than 6.5 hours. Thanks to KD Zeal (FanfictionDOTnet)for beta-reading,and Soundwave speech-correction.

From The Bottom Up.

Chapter Sixteen.

Time to Rock and Roll.

 

Once Dr Syn had explained that Starscream had taken Bumblebee back to the Autobot base, Sam had calmed down a lot. Sure, he missed Bumblebee, but then he suspected that Bumblebee would be happy to be back in his own Base.Sam went to see Soundwave to do his duties towards helping to get more fuel. Sam's idea had worked for the planes, and now they were working on a way to get more fuel for those with ground-based alt forms. So far they had decided that Dead End could scan Barricade, change the number a bit, and get filled at the Police pound in the same way Barricade did. However, they were only two cars, and they could not siphon enough from the two for all of the ground-based Decepticons. Another method was needed.

 

The problem was, after twenty minutes of discussion, Sam was clean out of ideas.

"Sorry, Soundwave, I can't think of anything else. If I had my MP3 player here, it might have helped, background music helps me concentrate. Then again, I don't have it so I guess I'll have to deal without it.” 

"Music-increases-Swiftstrike’s-efficiency?" Soundwave asked. For a moment Sam didn't respond; he was still getting used to his new name. Then he nodded.

"Uh….yeah, I find music helps me to think," Sam said.

"Specify-preferred-genre," Soundwave stated. 

"Rock and roll? Sam asked. There was a few moments of quiet, and then music began playing. Sam realised it was coming from Soundwave. "Hey, _great_! Where did you get the music from?" Sam asked."World-Wide-Web," stated Soundwave.

Sam thought for a bit while the music played. Then he had an idea.

"You have ground vehicles that mass greater than Barricade and Dead End, right?" he said. Soundwave nodded. "Well, if they scan service vehicles-like highway rescue vans, or even buses, they may have to do some work, but they can get fuel, and some of these things have pretty big tanks," he said.

Just as he finished his suggestion, the door opened to admit Starscream, who was holding a silvery mech in his hands. Starscream put the mech down; Sam noticed that this mech was similar to Frenzy in build, but thicker-set. The mech stumbled a little as Starscream released his hold.

"Soundwave, I found Rumble in the energon stores sampling the high-grade. We don't have much energon of either grade. Please control your Cassetticons." Then he paused, cocking his head. "What is that noise?""Swiftstrike-requested-music," intoned Soundwave. "This-genre-called-Rock-and-Roll."

 

"Rock and roll?" spoke up the small mech. "I can make the squishy do that!" Sam watched in fascination as it reconfigured its arms into smooth cylinders with flat ends. Before anyone could stop it, the cylinders blurred into motion, the flat ends striking the ground. Sam realised the mech had pile-driver arms, and the force of it's blows was making the ground shake, so much so that Sam could not keep his balance and fell over. He could see that Starscream and Soundwave were staying up, although with difficulty.

"Rum-ble-stop!" Soundwave said, but the last word was almost drowned out by a squeal of buckling and tearing metal, and a loud rumbling sound. Sam looked towards the sound, as did Starscream and Soundwave; Rumble was slow to respond to Soundwave's order, or maybe he hadn't heard it, for he continued hammering at the ground.

Sam cried out and threw his arms up reflexively as he saw that Rumble's actions had destabilised the foundations and structure of the warehouse, and it was falling apart and collapsing, directly on top of them.

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Autobot Base.

The Autobots had narrowed down the possible location of the Decepticon base down to two likely locations, and were determining how to proceed when they felt the ground shake.

"Earthquake!" said Bumblebee, who was caught off balance: Optimus caught and held him, bracing himself so he could stay upright and help the little scout regain his footing.

"No!" said Mirage, running a scan - he had been trying to narrow the two possibilities down to one using the Base scanners. "The origin point is one of the locations we were investigating, and I recognise that vibration pattern. I don't know why, but this is being caused by Rumble!" He paused a moment. "Hey, the warehouses! They…They've collapsed!"

Optimus opened a channel to Ratchet and Bumblebee.

"Ratchet, a set of warehouses has collapsed from the vibrations, and we have reason to believe Sam may be there. I want you and Bumblebee to go and investigate and render help if need be," he said, nodding to Bumblebee.

"I'll need a breem or so to organise some equipment, but if Bumblebee waits for me by the gates, I'll join him there!" Ratchet said. As Bumblebee nodded back and headed out, Optimus hoped that if Sam had been in one of the warehouses that Starscream had been in the same one, and was able to repay his debt.

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Although he knew it was futile to try and defend himself against falling masonry, Sam threw his arms over his head and rolled onto his front, squeezing his eyes shut. It was an action that was as instinctive as it was futile. He felt something land over him, braced, waiting for the crushing force to hit him, but although he could hear Cybertronian cries and grunts, and the sound of objects hitting other objects, he felt no pain, or even pressure.

Slowly he opened his eyes, thankful that Rumble had stopped. He assumed so anyway, as the ground had stopped shaking. It was dark, and there was something metal over him, although it wasn't pressing down on him. He saw a glint of light as there was movement over by his feet, part of the surface that lay over him.

"Get in my cockpit, Swiftstrike. I can't hold myself off the floor much longer with all this on me," Starscream said, his voice loud in the enclosed area Sam was in. That was when Sam realised that the metal surface above him was Starscream's hide: the Decepticon leader had thrown himself over Sam to shelter him from the falling debris.       

Sam scrambled over, clambering into the smoked glass of the canopy; as he got in, Starscream must have felt him do so, for the moment he was fully on the canopy glass, the Seeker allowed his body to drop, closing the canopy that Sam was crouched in. He heard a murmured 'Ow!' from Starscream as the canopy took part of the weight.

"Starscream, what's happening?" Sam asked."There is too much rubble on me for my arms to take the full weight of my body and the wreckage that is on me. I am trapped. We must wait here until Wreckage, Barricade, Dead End and Thundercracker – the only four not in the warehouse – can get to us, and help us get out. Wreckage is concentrating on getting the two doctors and Skywarp out at the moment, from the comm signals I have received. Skywarp has a tear in one of his wings, the two doctors will be needed to treat everyone else once they have repaired themselves."

Sam nodded: he'd have to deal with it.                                                                     "What about Rumble and Soundwave?" he asked. "Are they all right?"                   

"Soundwave is less buried than I, he is digging himself out and then will attempt to help unearth us. Rumble managed to flee into his customary place in Soundwave's chest compartment, and is probably sleeping off the energon," Starscream told Sam. "Why did Rumble do that anyway?" Sam said. "Seems a bit stupid.""Rumble got overenergised on the high grade energon," Starscream explained. "Being overenergised is akin to the human condition called 'drunk.'" 

"Okay," Sam said, understanding. He'd seen his Dad drunk, and knew Ron could do some stupid (but harmless) things when drunk.

 

Sam couldn't think of anything else to say for a bit, so he sat curled up in the curve of the canopy for a bit, wondering how long it would take for someone to come and get them out. He kept hearing muttered exclamations of pain from Starscream, and was concerned for him. Cybertronians were tough, but not indestructible, and it sounded like Starscream might be hurt. Sam was surprised to realise that he was concerned about Starscream, but then, he had been living in the same building with him for some time now. Before then, Starscream had just been the Decepticon leader who would kill without a second thought, but Sam had come to see Starscream as a person, just like his Autobot friends.

 

He was pulled from his thoughts by scraping and banging. It seemed someone may have reached them after all. Then there was a scrabbling noise, and then Sam heard Frenzy's agitated chitter. A few minutes later, Sam heard Starscream sigh, and felt himself slide down the canopy glass as Starscream levered himself up. Light flooded in as Starscream twisted to one side, and Sam managed to get into a position so he could see out, and saw Soundwave lifting a big piece of debris off Starscream's legs. Starscream stood; Sam was not too uncomfortable in the cockpit as he crouched in the kneehole, and Starscream and Soundwave moved away from the ruined warehouse.

 

Sam could see other casualties: the medic, Dr Syn was scuffed and dented, but he was tending to Skywarp: the dark Seeker had a large, deep, ragged looking gash down the underside of his wing, oozing pink energon. Dr Syn was stopping the leakage, but Sam could see the shudders running through the Seeker's frame, and hear the whimpers the flier could not hold back.

"Let me out," Sam said, gently rapping on the canopy to remind Starscream that he was there. "I can help."

"No, Swiftstrike," said Starscream. "You're too small to be of much use here, I'm afraid.

 

"Debt-repaid. Swiftstrike-return-to-Autobots," Soundwave said. "Soundwave-help."        

"Yes, that's right," Starscream said. "My debt to you is paid. Soundwave has offered to help return you to the Autobots; you will go with him."

Starscream opened his cockpit and took Sam out, gently but firmly handing him to Soundwave, who took him off, ignoring Sam's protests. Starscream moved over to comfort Skywarp as the doctor began trimming the edges of the wing gash.

 

Five minutes later, Ratchet and Bumblebee arrived. Starscream tensed and began to ready his weapons, but Ratchet gave an irritated snort, crossing his wrists at waist level to indicate no aggressive intent, and Bumblebee followed suit."I come here requesting a ceasefire under Protocol Five of the Treaty of Iacon so we can aid your wounded and to ask for the return of one Sam Witwicky, also known as Swiftstrike,” Ratchet said.

"Very well, we have a four-joor ceasefire. Thank you," said Starscream. As Ratchet moved towards another mech who Wreckage was bringing over, this one also leaking energon, Starscream said "As for Swiftstrike, I'm afraid you are too late."Ratchet turned as Bumblebee said "Too late? What do you mean, 'too late'? Is he dead?"

"No, Autobot, Swiftstrike is not dead, I paid my debt to him, saving his life, but I believe Soundwave has already arranged for him to leave the Base. He should be on his way to your Base by now.""In that case, Bumblebee, we should render aid to the injured, and you can see Sam when we get back tonight. Come, assist me,” Ratchet said.

As they moved to help the injured, Bumblebee could see Soundwave still clearing debris. Clearly Soundwave had not taken Sam back himself. He figured that all able hands would be needed to help with the rescuing and repair, which made Bumblebee wonder just what sort of transport Soundwave had organised to take Sam back.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Sam clung on with his one good arm, and was thankful for the fabric bandage handholds Frenzy had kindly tied for him, plus the bindings Frenzy had tied to secure his injured arm and his feet to his steed, as Ravage swiftly bounded over the open ground, headed for the Autobot base. It was scary and exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once, and Ravage's exertions warmed his hide, offsetting the chill that the swift passage caused.

 

When Soundwave had first suggested Ravage, Sam had baulked a bit, but it was Frenzy who reminded him that Ravage was grateful for the earlier unkinking of his wires, and that any of the bigger ‘Cons would be needed to help recover and repair others. It was either be carried by Ravage, or be borne by his arms in the claws of, or riding on the back of, Laserbeak. Frenzy explained that as Laserbeak was none too bright, had no reason to be grateful to him, and possessed a sadistic streak, Ravage was by far the best option. Sam had reluctantly accepted Frenzy's reasonings, which is how he came to be riding on the back of a huge mechanical cat. Luckily, with the bindings provided by Frenzy, he was in no immediate danger of falling off, but it was still a scary sensation.

 

The Autobot base hove into view, and Ravage slowed and stopped. He growled slightly, and Sam slipped his legs and arm from the ties, tucking the loose ends away so they would not impede Ravage's movements. Ravage turned to face Sam, lowered his head, butted him gently with the top of his head, then whisked round and was off again, back to what was left of the Decepticon base, before Sam could react. He turned and walked over to the gates, which were already opening; Ironhide had obviously spotted him. Sam felt intently weary, but also odd, coming back after so long an absence.

 

"Sam," Ironhide said. "I have informed Optimus that you have returned. He'd like to see you in his office.""Okay," Sam said. He walked down the corridor he'd last walked down a few weeks ago, although it felt like months. He got to Optimus' door: it was already open, so he called out and walked in. Optimus came over and picked Sam up. 

 

"Sam, you are safe. I am glad to see that your health has not suffered too much." 

"Yeah, I'm kinda glad to be back, though it's odd. Strangely enough, I'm gonna miss those guys," he said. "Starscream, Soundwave, Skywarp, Frenzy, Dr Syn, Ravage, and Barricade in particular." He looked down, embarrassed. "When they're not threatening me or my friends, they're pretty decent guys after their own fashion." He shook his head violently. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna suddenly go over to their side or anything, no way, but it's a shame things have to be like this. In another reality, we could have been friends," he said.

"Who knows, Sam, what could happen, even in your short lifetime? As I once observed, your race is not so unlike ours. You have forged links, learned that you and our enemies have more in common than you realised. It is likely that some of _them_ have discovered that there is more to you than they might ever have thought, that you and they have things in common. Who knows? This may be the beginning of a possibility to forge a fragile peace, and the process may start in your lifetime, so there is still hope that the fragile friendships you started to forge may yet have a chance to grow."Optimus placed Sam on his desk, then sat, indicating for Sam to sit on one of the human-sized chairs that were still on his desk.                                                                        "You think so?" Sam said. "I'm glad then that this whole Code thing might have started something, though I'm glad it's over. I guess I should be careful whose life I save,” he said with a short laugh. He looked up when he'd finished laughing to find Optimus peering at him intently.

"Sam, these incidents have made me think of recent events, and in reviewing them, I have realised something I should have realised sooner. In Mission City, I told you to put the AllSpark in my chest, an action that would have destroyed both myself and the AllSpark. Instead, you put it in Megatron's chest.""Yeah, well I don't think my life expectancy would have been very long with you and the AllSpark both gone. Megatron would have gotten really pissy and squished me, so I see it as self-defence,” Sam said. "All the same, Sam, it still means one thing to me. In doing so, in pushing it into Megatron's chest, you defeated him for me – and there was a real possibility that I would have lost in a fight against my brother - and you negated the need for my own sacrifice." He smiled sadly at Sam. "Between setting up our own Base after Mission City, Barricade's adherence to the Code, and then Starscream's, I have not had time to reflect on it until now. However, I even said it in Mission City: I owe you my life, Sam."

A small tendril of dread curled inside Sam; he could see where this was going.

"I took the Code, Sam, and I now realise that I, too, have a debt to you to pay off." 

"Hold it, hold it, _hold it_ ," Sam said. "When Megatron knocked me off the roof, you caught me, you saved my life, so I think that would count as payment, right?" 

"Indeed, Sam, but I only saved your life _once_. By defeating Megatron, you likely saved me from dying at his claws, by putting the AllSpark in his chest, you negated the need for my own sacrifice. You saved my life _twice_ , Sam, I only saved yours once. I still have a debt to pay," Optimus said."Can't both debts be paid by saving me when I fell from the roof?" Sam pleaded. Optimus shook his great head.

"Regretfully, the Code is clear about that, so no, Sam, I'm sorry. That counts as _one_ debt repayment, and one only. I still have another debt to pay off to you." He sighed. "I'm sorry, I know this must be a burden to you, but for my honour, I must do it.""At least you're on my side," Sam said with a shrug. "I've coped with Barricade and Starscream owing me, not much could be more difficult than them."

He smiled up at Optimus. "Don't worry, I'll deal with it," he said.

' _Somehow_ ,' he thought but did not say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there is a sequel, for Optimus to pay off his debt, which will be going up very soon.


End file.
